


Can you love me again

by Solrey



Category: ATEEZ (Band), ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst and Tragedy, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Dialogue Heavy, Different fantasy elements, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fantasy species - Freeform, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Magic-Users, Minor and Major Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Strangers to Lovers, Yeosang centric, long chaptered story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:14:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 100,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22069861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solrey/pseuds/Solrey
Summary: memory/ˈmɛm(ə)ri/noun1. the faculty by which the mind stores and remembers information.2. something remembered from the past.Yeosang was able to remember everything he ever read, studied, saw - pleasant and unpleasant things alike. But the most important thing he was unable to remember.
Relationships: (Past) Jeong Yunho/Kang Yeosang, (Past) Kang Yeosang & Jung Wooyoung, (Past) Kang Yeosang/Kim Hongjoong, (Past) Kang Yeosang/Park Seonghwa, (Past) Kang Yeosang/Song Mingi/Choi Jongho, Choi San/Kang Yeosang, Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Yeo Hwanwoong
Comments: 67
Kudos: 83





	1. A memory made out of bittersweet memories

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome.
> 
> This first chapter happend in just a few days, it was a random thought I had and I changed the plot so many times but here I am, posting it.  
> The original idea I had was inspired by a Stray Kids fanficton I've read months ago but the new storyline strays away from the inspiration I had. Also, no I do not intend of copying anyone, just a heads up if someone might say they had read something similar before. :D 
> 
> This first chapter is very long and very dialog heavy because it is basically the prologue plus the first chapter - I just didn't find a good spot to separate the two.  
> If important things will happen which I not tagged, I will warn you ahead of the chapter. :)

Memories – everyone has them but never fully understands, being under the influence of thinking you would remember to tell, however fragments always changed and would never be the same. Memories where vague things, easily tempered with, changed into scenarios which never happened. 

Curiosity stroked Yeosang early in his life, his still little mind being drawn to things he couldn’t quiet understand, too young to decipher. His parents saw the potential in him, reminded each day how Yeosang never seemed to forget and pushed him to pursue his talent, he was glad his parents had back then. Child Yeosang would sit hours upon hours in the library, reading one book after another, trying to decipher old scrolls, attaching information to his memory like he had never done something different. Yeosang was one of a kind, being able to remember whole books at the mere age of eight, having a giant bookshelf in his room at the age of eleven. Privat teachers tried to teach him for most of his childhood.

Books where usually scattered everywhere in his room; books over animals, astrology, magic, demigods, myths. The list was endlessly, his thirst for more too. 

Talented Kang, people called him. His parents where no doubt smart people but Yeosang seemed to succeed them already at a young age and they where proud, praising Yeosang at any given time.

Yeosang visited the most prestigious school in town when private teachers weren’t enough anymore, a school one only could get inside with wealthy parents and intellect, small Yeosang possessed both. The teachers there noticed fast that he was indeed a fast learner, wanting to know more, to explore more and foremost do more. However, the other children weren’t as understanding, as accepting of him. Without wanting to, he overshadowed the other’s, took their places. Yeosang never made a single friend while he attended school, his only friend being a book of poetry, a gift by his late grandmother whom he had held dearly until she died. Other things children or young adults did, he never done them. Relationships? A waist of time. Party? To loud and vulgar. The only thing he did experience was when he got beaten up by a fellow student, never had he ever felt such pain.

‘ _You are gifted with rich parents, intellect and good looks. What did you do to be favored by our gods so much? Is this your flaw?’_ The boy had growled at him, each word dripping with venom. Yeosang had never felt so hurt before, the pure hatred making his heart ache painfully. The one beating him up wasn’t fully human, he could feel it, see it. Something evil surrounded the other, Yeosang wanted to vomit with every harsh kick he received, blow he sucked up. ‘ _are so high up in your head that you are not able to answer me, is that right? How does it feel like to be at the bottom of the line, nicely underneath my feet? I tell you how it feels; it is the best feeling, nothing can compare to this._ ’ Yeosang was sure he had blacked out at some point, the harsh eyes never leaving his mind. His memory, however, got him, like it always does, so he remembers the boy’s last words to him: ‘ _Pure, all I can see in you is white, pure white – innocence. That cannot be possible, you cannot be possible. Be corrupted, show the world who you truly are.’_

Needlessly to say, said boy was kicked out of school and Yeosang hasn’t sawn him since, the words still with him, burned into his endless memory capacity. He didn’t understood, could grasp what he meant with pureness or innocence, Yeosang has done childhood mischievousness and lied a couple of times. Why would the boy say it would be necessary for him to be corrupted when he was not free of sins, of the little things humans do? Yeosang tried to find a reason, tried to find pureness in his doings but found none.

Things changed when he turned fifteen. Royal officers visited the schools, searching for pupils for different sections, young people who they could rip out of their lives, their families for the solely reason to work for the crown. They all seemed to have an eye on Yeosang and he felt small under their gazes, not entirely understanding what weight had been placed onto his shoulders. Society always expected him to do more, to reach for the sky but he had never dreamed of becoming a royal servant, someone directly working for the crown. His nose had been put into one to many books for having such a dream, he wasn’t like other young adults. His dream had been to become a researcher, putting his mind and soul into a field he liked to explore more, to give back to the many professors who had laid the ground he was walking on. Knew his parents, his family, was expecting great achievements. 

At the end it was a man who looked just a handful years older who took a particular liking to him. The other was dressed in white striking clothes, a white cape with gold shimmering ornaments draped over his shoulders, his dark black hair having white ends, effortlessly curled at the end. The whole aura he gave off made Yeosang even smaller, intimidated but he was unable to look away, the man practically glowing in his eyes. A white hue seemed to surrounded him but it vanished the second Yeosang blinked.

The most striking feature about the royal officer where his eyes – brown, soft eyes, not a single hardness to them. He had never seen a man this beautiful. 

“Child, what is your name?” 

The other’s voice was smooth but hard, forming a question Yeosang didn’t dare to defy. 

“Yeosang, sir. Kang Yeosang.” 

“Yeosang.” He tested the name and nodded with a satisfied hum. “From this day onwards I will be your teacher. You will be taught in a specific field and I guarantee you, your thirst for knowledge will be stilled within my lessons.” 

Yeosang couldn’t refuse and simply nodded. It was the end of his old life and the beginning of something completely new. His parents where beyond proud – not even had he been the focus of all royal officers but had also been picked to be taught, an undoubted big honor for the Kang’s. He had no heart to tell his parents of his not existing excitement and let them believe he wanted it as much as they did. 

He was moved out of his family mansion two days after, his family gathered to see him off. Yeosang’s mother tried to stay strong, to not let a single tear roll down her cheek and she had successes, knowing very well how her son would cry too if she did. Her not crying made the farewell easier but also less personal. Without a doubt, something died inside of Yeosang on this day. Another thing, however, was born at the same time. 

The royal officer awaited him on the royal grounds, a side mansion of the royal family in which close servants where permitted to live and do their handwork. Yeosang officially moved in with the man. He was in awe, the mansion bigger than the Kang’s and it was just the side mansion, not even the real residence of the royal family. They stayed at the west wing of the mansion, Yeosang getting his own room. Surprised, he noticed that all of his books had found their way into his new room which was bigger than his old one, two new bookshelves with not a single book in them just yet who he yearned to fill by simply looking at them. Apart from the size, the room overall was similar to the one he had lived in his whole life and it gave him some kind of comfort, Yeosang felt not as homesick as he had originally anticipated.

On the same day he was finally introduced to his new life and his mentor. The royal officer introduced himself as Kim Youngjo and Yeosang was allowed to call him by his first name as long as they were alone, if others where present he had to refer to him as Ravn. Yeosang wasn’t oblivious on who Youngjo was, he was absolutely thrilled and excited, had only been able to read about him but now he was standing right to the man who would be function as his mentor. Ravn as his mentor. If his hands where shaking at the introduction and the obligatory handshake, both did not mention it. 

With Youngjo introducing himself to Yeosang it also became clear what he should be learning starting of now and Yeosang was beyond confused. Him, learning _white magic_?

“Sir- I mean, Youngjo, am I here to learn about white magic?” 

Youngjo hummed in delight, apparently happy his new student knew what Youngjo excelled at. Yeosang only followed the man down the hallways, a feet behind him to respect their status, their positions as mentor and soon to be student.

“I see you read well. I saw a few books of yours when they were transferred to your room and I must say you have taste.” The easiness in Youngjo’s words calmed Yeosang a lot, who had been scared before because most royal officers where strict and mean. “That is not the answer you were seeking for, I apologize. Indeed Yeosang, you are here to become a sorcerer who is able to use white magic.”

“Why me? What makes me suitable for this?” Yeosang immediately cursed his mouth for speaking so fast and his brain for thinking so slow. He dipped his head low, feeling the stare of his mentor on him. “I am sorry, I had no intention of questioning your decision for choosing me and disrespecting you in the progress of my words. I am simply curious of knowing why.” 

“Yeosang, child, do you know how old I am?” Youngjo sounded amused, not at all angered. 

“I do not, Sir.” Yeosang said as they passed maids, not sparing them a glance as they went on their way. “Is it of importance? Should I have known? I’m terribly sorry for lacking.”

“You are in no way lacking Yeosang, I rather call it unexperienced.” Youngjo smiled over his shoulder and it held a warmth Yeosang hadn’t seen very often, his mother had shown it from time to time. “I may look young, around your age maybe a few years older but in truth I’m a few decades old. White magic allows me to age slowly.” 

Yeosang’s eyes widened at the words, could not believe what he just heard. A man, a human, able to live a few decades while looking like he hasn’t aged at all? He had read about magic being able to alter with the span of a lifetime but he had never truly believed, had wanted to confirmed it one day. The day had come early, he noted. 

They seemed to have reached a room of importance when Youngjo laid his hand against the wooden door, a gleam of white rushing over the surface before opening on its own – it was the moment Yeosang noticed that the door had no knob or anything similar to open it. The older just turned to him and waved him inside, “Don’t hesitate.” 

Gulping down his excitement he followed, stepping inside of the room. What he saw inside was mystic, amazing, spectacular – everything he probably had ever dreamed of. Rows and rows of bookshelves filled with books, scrolls and items of rarity. Candles where scattered all over the room, some burned down while other where still complete, indicating where his mentor stayed most of the time. Over tables where scrolls thrown, staying in place by little white figures. Dragons, fairies, unicorns and many more, looking so detailed he was afraid one would come to live when he got to close. To the room was even more, things he might had never anticipated. A brewing stand was standing proudly on the left side of the room, bottles upon bottles neatly stacked in a shelf only for them while another one had only filled bottles. The bottles had a wide spectrum of colors and Yeosang’s fingers twitched in anticipation of finding out which mixture did what but the amused laugh of Youngjo held him back, before he was childish enough to run and find out about it on the spot.

“Surprised to see a brewing stand here? Many none magic users think our power alone comes from the resources living deep inside of us, which is partly true. I will introduce you to the power beyond pure magic soon, do not worry.” Youngjo chuckles when he closes the door after them, the shimmer once more going over the door. He wondered how fast he would learn to open the door by himself. “The room you see right now is my usual working space, after today it will be ours. In here I will teach you what great magic you possess and how you can use it. What I expect from you is your loyalty and trust, I will not teach you for nothing, in the end, you should work for our royal family as if your life depends on it. Will you fail, you will fail our country. The weight on your shoulders will get heavier each year you train but eventually you will become a great sorcerer, trusted and loved by many if you follow my steps. Your future is bright Yeosang, you just have to follow my lead and I will guide you on the right track.” 

A Damocles sword hung right above his head, Yeosang felt threatened by it. Of course there was nothing like this in real life but the words his mentor had said felt like one, felt like a direct and indirect threat at the same time. Yeosang gulped down the heaviness he felt, tried to stop the shaking of his hands. Even though he had now a different path in front of him, he would excel it, he would make his mentor, his family and his country proud. It felt like a flame was lit inside of him, a burning desire to show Youngjo he could do it. Maybe it did excited him more than he had first thought.

“I will follow you, Youngjo. Please teach me everything you know, I cannot wait to see what a sorcerer is able to do.” 

Youngjo hummed satisfied, roaming around in the room to shift two chairs against one of the plenty tables, gesturing Yeosang to take a seat. Without a second thought he followed and sat down, curiously eyeing the older while said one cleared the table of items on it before he sat down himself. 

“I really like your spirit, Yeosang.” Youngjo tapped his finger on the wooden table in a steady rhythm while looking at him, in his eyes a sparkle of enjoyment. “I can see you have questions, go ahead.” 

“I can just ask?”

“Of course you can. I ask for loyalty and trust, obviously I will give you these traits back. Everything said in this room will stay here.” 

“Okay then there is a question I have been asking myself for a while.” For a moment he is unable to look at the older, feeling hesitant but his curious mind got the best of him, making his eyes gaze at the raven haired man. “From all the students you saw, you chose me. The magic you practice is white magic, how could you have known I would be able to learn it, use it even?” 

The older laughed and stretched out his hand, gesturing to Yeosang to take it. Yeosang just looked at the hand for a moment, thinking what touching the other could bring him for an answer, he does it nonetheless. The moment their hands met, a static shock runs through Yeosang’s body and he retreats his hand shocked, eyes blown wide when he looks at his mentor. 

“You felt this strongly did you not?” Youngjo takes his hand again and Yeosang prepares himself for another shock; there is none. All he could feel was a little vibration going through his body which wasn’t unpleasant at all. “The energy you felt was our magic responding to each other. You might not be able to see it but I am very clearly able to. The way your magic buzzes around you, the pure white almost blinding. The moment I laid my eyes on you, I knew I could not leave you to any other recruiter, your power would have been wasted with the likes of them.”

“My magic- is white?” Yeosang says confused, thinking back to the incident years ago. “What does it mean? To have pure white magic?” 

“There are many different types of magic in this world, Yeosang. The one we both have flowing through our body is a rare one, desired by many but obtained only by a few. The reason for it is, that a magic born child needs to be blessed by a god or a goddess in order for white magic to flow, only they are able to change your magic profile completely.” Youngjo shakes their hands a little and Yeosang’s breath hitches when he sees a glow coming from them. “The white which surrounds you is the most pure white I have seen in decades, no sorcerer is able to keep himself so pure on a long run.” 

“So, our magic can be corrupted?” 

“You can call it corruption, yes. Other’s refer to it as tainted or stained.” 

A shudder went through his body when he relieved the memory from years ago, his brain providing him with a perfect image of the boy hurting him. The way he had felt so dark, so unfriendly even before he had started to insult and hurt him. In a way it started to make sense but it brought up so many new questions, Yeosang wasn’t sure what to ask first. 

“I had- No, how do I say this.” Yeosang bites his lower lip a little, unsure on how to start. “My memory works well, maybe a little to well. A few years ago there was a boy, he seemed to have taken a heavy dislike against me and I never got to know why. I was able to feel some sort of darkness coming from him but never found the source of it.” Feeling the past well up again so vividly in his memory made his heart ache in a way he had forgotten for a long time but with Youngjo he felt safe, even brave. Yeosang only knew this man for a few days now but just the pleasant feeling of energy flowing from one to the other made him comfortable enough to talk. “He did beat me up back then, pretty strongly and I did not fought back. I would have forgotten about it and moved on if it had been just me getting beaten up, but there was more to it and my memory never failed me. The boy who beat me up said all _I could see is white, pure white – innocence_ and mentioned that I should be corrupted, said I should show the word who I truly am. Is there a way to explain what he said?” 

Youngjo furrowed his brows, seemingly deep in thoughts. Yeosang waited patiently, interested but also scared and silently wonders how dangerous the situation actually has been. The elder’s mans voice sounded alarmingly pained. 

“He wanted you to be corrupted?” 

Yeosang nodded, his heart pounding hardly in his chest. 

“I hope you do not have contact with this boy whatsoever. If he was able to see your magic and tells you to become corrupted, then he must be either a dark magic sorcerer or a creature of the darkness. Sorcerers who use dark magic are often ‘blessed’ by the devil himself, gods who reside in the darkness or by high-class demons. Obviously, not everyone from this side is potentially evil or twisted, I have met a fair share of good ones. However, dark magic is as powerful as our white magic but it is more addictive, making many sorcerers become overwhelmed and addicted to the power they possess.” The way Youngjo says it makes it incredible impactful, a feeling of relieve welling up inside of him that he had been blessed by a god and not a creature of the darkness. “It’s not the person who is necessarily evil but the power they hold, remember this well Yeosang. Even though our power is not as addictive, it can lead to addiction eventually, be careful.”

“I will, I promise.” He nods, giving Youngjo the most honest smile he could muster up. “What about the creatures of darkness?”

“Classified as a creature of the darkness is every race who lives by unethical rules like feeding of humans, killing for fun, taking advantage of desperate souls and so on. Many of these labels have been centuries old and the line is blurry nowadays but the most obvious ones are vampires or demons. Most of them are old, have seen many different people come and go, they are most likely able to see your magic as well. However, you said he was a boy, so it’s unlikely he was one.” 

“Doesn’t make this rule us humans creatures of the darkness too? We do feed from harmless animals and slaughter them.” 

“Good point Yeosang, I see you catch up fast.” The elder grips his hand a little tighter and Yeosang yelps a little in surprise. “Remember, just because they are classified as ‘darkness’ does not mean they are evil. Many try to go against these prejudices and we won’t fuel any more of these. Labels of white and dark, pure and darkness come from times where people did not know it better, we cannot solely rely on these. Let this be your first lesson.” 

And Yeosang did, saved each said word in his memory and relived them countless times, telling him time after time the boy had just been plainly evil, noting more and nothing less. Youngjo had provided the idea that he boy might have been irritated with him not being tainted at all, they where young and he might have been unable to let his frustration out in another way. Yeosang tried to believe it, banning the memory from his thoughts completely after. 

He became Youngjo’s student, training with the older for years and he could clearly remember Youngjo saying that he would take care of his thirst for knowledge. The raven haired did not lie. Month after month Yeosang’s bookshelves became fuller, book after book finding its way into the wooden shelves, one thicker than the other. Through some connections Youngjo was able to get a book to almost every topic Yeosang desired to know more about and he was glad the older provided him them. 

With the training he had been undergoing he soon had noticed his potential himself – Yeosang was strong and a very fast learner. He was talented but Youngjo would never call him like that, would never say he was talented and for the first few weeks Yeosang had been upset about it. Why would his mentor not mention his obvious talent for white magic? With months of intense training and learning he finally understood why: saying he was good because of his talent would taint his hardworking self, the progress he had affectively made by himself. Yeosang could become arrogant and lazy.

Youngjo was a good teacher, patient and understanding, never pushing him to far but pushing him when he really needed it. The first few times where Yeosang had actually tried to use magic outside of the logical aspect and plainly reading about it, had him so exhausted afterwards, Youngjo had become incredible worried for his health. Besides their training, the older also started to look over Yeosang’s eating habits and also worked with him physically – which Yeosang indeed needed, after staying inside libraries his whole life he wasn’t exactly the fittest person. With the extra length of training him physically and his health steadily becoming better, Yeosang noticed he was able to use his magic more freely, less struggles with it in general. The buzzing energy inside of his body, now at a constant low level, was oddly calming to him and in a way, it felt like home. His magic, he learned, had always been a part of him which had ached to be freed, so when he was finally able to control his power to a decent level, Yeosang had noticed he had never felt more freedom. It felt incredible and to some extend he understood why Youngjo had warned him about his power, the addictive feeling which came along with it because sometimes he felt drunk on it, wanted more, needed more. Youngjo never let him do something stupid, thankfully.

Despite having Youngjo as his mentor and teacher, he got to know more people around the mansion, befriended more people than he would have ever imagined. Not many where his age but it didn’t felt awkward with them, it was the total opposite. More than once did Youngjo find Yeosang in the kitchen with the maids, watching and learning how to cook, interested on how they could create a tasty meal out of the ingredients. The maids where more than willed to let the him watch. If Youngjo didn’t find him with them, Yeosang would most likely wander through the sheer endless garden of the mansion. 

It was also there were Yeosang met Hwanwoong for the first time, a close friend of Youngjo. Yeosang had been polite, introducing himself but the older would never listen to him, telling him to go away and let him work. Youngjo told him to not be discouraged, Hwanwoong was simply a moody person and would warm up to him eventually. He never did. 

Four years, it took Yeosang four years before he understood why Hwanwoong hated him. He was his mentor’s lover. A love he interrupted with moving in and consuming most of his mentor’s time. Yeosang was no idiot, knew that lovers needed their time alone and he tried to give them exactly this – Youngjo wasn’t having it. The older would tell him that no matter how deeply he felt for Hwanwoong, his duty to the royal family and his country would always be greater, by far more important. His duty was to train Yeosang, making Yeosang his priority. The fact saddened him but it wasn’t his place to argue it. Instead he wandered into the garden more often, enjoying the beautiful sight in front of him. 

Hwanwoong never said anything to him directly but Yeosang felt it, felt the magic in the smaller man. He wasn’t nearly as powerful as Youngjo nor Yeosang but it was there, Hwanwoong threatened him with it. 

Yeosang never fully understood the pain his mentor’s lover was going through, had he not fallen in love with anyone over the course of his stay. The reason clearly weren’t the people around him, it was Yeosang himself. He found himself unable to be attracted to woman and even though he felt himself more drawn to man, did not a single one ever made his heart flip. Youngjo would reassure him, whenever he was in doubt with himself and his ability to love, that the right person would cross his path eventually. Yeosang believed him, like he always had done. 

Living with the older for years made them grow close, at some point they became friends but soon Youngjo felt more like father to him than a friend. He hadn’t seen his real family since he had moved out and even though he writes letters to his mother every other week, his standing now hindering from seeing his loved ones. Yeosang wasn’t surprised he became attached to the man teaching him and Youngjo wouldn’t complain about it either. 

At the age of twenty, Youngjo deemed Yeosang ready for his first mission. It was simple, nothing to complicated and Youngjo had been at his side all the time, watching over him. A boy, not older than ten, had fallen ill and Yeosang was tasked to see what exactly was wrong with him. He saw it right away, saw the mark which was invisible to none sorcerers and narrowed his eyes, fixating it.

“He has been bitten.” Yeosang concluded, holding the boy’s arm tightly. “I would say a vampire, older but not an elder. The vampire was able to hide the wound but the traces are still there.” 

“What do we do then?” Youngjo asked him. 

Yeosang gently traced the marks with his finger, feeling the rest of the energy pumping against his finger. The boy whimpered, feeling weak. He prayed the boy would hold on long enough.

“I need to get rid of the rest energy flowing through his body, taking out the vampire’s energy. It is like a poison inside of his body, slowly but surely eating his life force away. Whoever bit him had no intentions of really healing him, they just did not want to be caught.” Yeosang stated clearly because he was right, he had learned this. “To not endanger the boy’s life I would give him a life potion to ensure there is enough energy in him while I take the vampire’s energy out. Can I?”

“Go ahead.”

He had practiced it, practiced his powers on clones and figures made out of magic but never had he tried it on a human. Yeosang was confident in his success when he tried to locate the right potion inside of his bag, humming satisfied when the right bottle fell into his hands. The liquid inside was a muddy green, not appetizing at all but he had to give it to the boy, not wanting to lose the boy in the progress. With slightly shaking hands he lifted the poor boy’s head up, his eyes fluttering open weakly and Yeosang felt a sting in his heart, seeing him so weak. 

“Drink this for me, okay? I promise you will feel better.” 

Yeosang’s voice was warm, caring, the boy opening his lips a little and drinking the potion without any resistance, scrunching his face at the weird taste of it. He laughed a little at the boy who weakly smiled at him.

“I will take out what the mean vampire has put inside of your body now, okay? Can you stay still for me?” 

He got a little nod and Yeosang laid the boy down again, brushing his thumb other his cheeks encouragingly. They were alone with Youngjo in the room, the parents of the sick boy shaking in fear of losing their beloved son outside of the house, not wanting to disturb the little chance their boy had. With a last deep breath he turned around once more, looking at his mentor for the okay and when he got a quick nod from the older, let his eyes fall back on his patient. 

One of his hands placed directly over the wound while the other laid over the weak beating heart, connecting the source of the problem and the source of life within the body with another. Warm energy sipped out of his palms inside of the small body under them, a soft white light illuminating the surroundings. With utmost concentration he tried to search for the poisonous energy and felt for it until his own energy collided with the other. His breath hitched when he felt the strength of the energy the vampire had left behind but was even more determined than before to erase it and heal the boy. 

Actually removing the energy completely from the boy took him around an hour but with a satisfied hum and sweaty hands he had been able to get rid of everything, the boy now sleeping due to the exhaustion. He was out of the danger and would wake up to yet another day. The parents where thankful beyond his understanding, the mother even falling on her knees in front of him but he waved her off, saying it was his duty and she should not fall on her knees for him.

Youngjo had been proud, Yeosang could see it in the raven haired man’s face and the warm sparkle in his eyes. 

Yeosang had never been more thankful for his magical abilities then on this day, without them he wouldn’t had been able to safe the boy. White magic, no matter what, was a defensive magic and mostly used to heal people, Yeosang loved this aspect of his magic. Youngjo had taught him offensive spells too, of course he had to but Yeosang was sure there would be no need to use them any time soon. Instead he was rewarded with praise and other missions he was allowed to handle. With him being allowed to go outside of his normal routine and take missions on alone, he was also allowed to visit the nearest cities on his own. 

Yeosang had always been craving to see how much the towns around the mansion had changed, what people lived there now, who would he encounter when his feet finally carried him there. On the first travel Youngjo accompanied him to the city gates, making sure Yeosang remembered the road well – even though both knew Yeosang wouldn’t forget it anyways – and remind him to be back before the sun sets. 

Yeosang was touched by Youngjo’s worries but reassured him, he would be home on time.

The city had expanded, grew bigger, larger in size, houses now everywhere while people walked over the busy streets. It was different and unexpected, had he been inside a rather quiet house for years so where these streets a complete opposite. Shops where scattered all over, from bakeries over flower shops to street markets and smiths, everyone seemed to be occupied by something. Yeosang liked it, the way people greeted him and politely bowed their heads to him, his clothing giving away that he had indeed a higher status now. He tried hard to not let the respect they gave him get to his head but he wasn’t successful, feeling how his chest swelled in pride. 

Buying something for himself by the money he had earned himself felt great and the freedom he once had felt seemed to expand with every moment he stayed inside the city. Five years of not leaving a mansion seemed so long compared to what he was experiencing in such a short time. The smell of fresh foods, the voices overlapping, children laughing – the world around him was unbelievably lively.

Maybe it was his general interest in flowers, awakened by Hwanwoong, which brought him to a public garden. The beauty he found was astonishing, drawing him in immediately. It was in the warm sun of the summer months where flowers of every color bloomed in their full glory, gentle swaying to the cooling breeze and Yeosang found himself comparing this garden to the one at his home. Obviously it was incomparable. The garden Hwanwoong had to tend was way bigger than this one, fancier in every possible way and countless people where directly working under the older to make it as perfect as it is. Not only this but they also designed and tended the other royal gardens. Whoever worked here had less material, money and people to work with but Yeosang didn’t mind, saw no flaw.

The garden had it’s own charm, something precious to it one could see by simply looking at it. Many only worked in their jobs because they were good at it but the person in order here seemed to really love what they where doing. It wasn’t only beautiful around them but also practical, having places for townspeople to spend their time at, enough space for children to get adventurous while creating hidden spots for the ones seeking peace. Yeosang was in love with it. Something stirred in him, wanting to know who was possibly able to create such an amazing garden. 

“Do you like what you see, dear sorcerer?” An elderly woman had walked up to him, smiling warmly.

“Oh yes, very much, madam.” Yeosang replies, not even trying to hide his own smile. 

The woman laughs a little before she points at someone, standing a little bit away in the shadows, eyes on them. Yeosang shudders involuntary. 

“The young boy there,” she begins while she turns around, waving her hand dismissively, “tends the garden every day. The compliment should he receive directly.” 

He lets her words play through his mind for a few seconds but before he can thank her, she had vanished, disappearing in the garden. Surprised he turned back, eyes searching for the person in the shadows, a boy, until he can make out the outlines of said person. For a moment Yeosang considered to leave him alone, turn around and go on his way – but he can’t. A feeling of longing overcomes him so suddenly, it’s already gone in the next minute, leaving behind a weird tingle. 

So he walks over, notices how the boy in the shadows seemed to flinch at his confident steps but stays where he is, until Yeosang is able to step inside of the shadows. For a moment he is blind, his eyes not yet used to be in the shadows once more. He hears the other gasp and for a moment he wonders, what reason the other had to gasp so audibly but then remembers how many saw him. Yeosang couldn’t help himself and chuckled at the reaction he earned, finally opening his eyes after they had adjusted. 

This time it was his turn to gasp, Yeosang’s eyes widening visibly. The boy in front of him was no boy but a man at least his age, considerably a few centimeters taller, their eyes easily on the same level and Yeosang feels himself drown in those eyes the moment they lock. Never had he seen such striking brown eyes, deep and alluring, a faint red shimmer in them. Yeosang thinks he’s hallucinating. Brown eyes with a drop of red? Impossible but yet here he was, the man in front of him with such eyes he had never seen before. 

Yeosang is ripped out of his stare when the man bites his bottom lip, a soft red hue adoring his cheeks. Suddenly there is so much more to the man in front of him. With astonishment he notices the plump red lips, so full and well curved – undeniable attractive when bitten. Soft, curly dark brown hair framed the beautiful man’s face and Yeosang had the urge to touch it, to feel it against his palms. He didn’t. However, seeing how the other’s cheeks reddened more and more with each passing second he stared at him, Yeosang wanted to coo, cup the sweet dusted cheeks and squish them. Never had he thought seeing someone blush would evoke such feelings in him. 

“You are beautiful.” 

It slipped past Yeosang’s lips, faster than he could think and for a moment he feared, the other would turn and run – but he didn’t. Instead, he whined, casting his eyes away in an embarrassed act. Yeosang felt the whine go through his entire body, his heart beating to fast, as he noticed, and now his cheeks seem to become hot as well. What a beautiful whine. I want to hear more.

“H-how can you say something so, so, so-“ The man takes a step back, Yeosang steps one forward, “- so obscene?”

“I beg you pardon, it was not my intention to make you uncomfortable.” Yeosang replies, taking yet another step closer, the other not stepping back this time. “My mouth is indeed sometimes faster than my brain, I apologize. However, I said what I said.” 

Their eyes meet again and Yeosang finds difficulty in breathing. He had never seen a man this beautiful and he was working with Youngjo on a daily basis, who he had considered prior. Their bodies just a handful of centimeters apart, the air around them seemingly shifting. Yeosang’s eyes flicker down for a second, staring yet again at the inviting lips but tore his eyes away.

“You have no idea who I am, what gives you the right to sweettalk me?” 

“Sweettalking you? Am I?” Yeosang asks, almost innocently and the blush on both of their cheeks deepens. “I’m not against the idea, I must confess but you have a point. What is your name, beautiful?” 

This time the man takes two steps back, out of Yeosang’s personal space and he feels disappointed, had wanted to have him closer again. He wondered what this feeling could be, wanted more of it. The feeling of longing coming back yet again and leaving immediately. Yeosang’s curiosity grew with the seconds ticking, had he never felt anything remotely close before. 

“What does it matter, sorcerer?” The other asks and Yeosang hears the shaking in his voice. “You are not from here, most likely a traveler, my life is of unimportance for you.”  
“It is true I am not from this town but I do life close, close enough for your life to matter for me. So please, let me get to know you?” 

The other seemed to consider his proposal, letting his eyes wander around before he turned around, walking deeper into the garden. Yeosang stood still for a moment, shocked, the fear of never seeing the other again suddenly deeply rooted in his heart and he is close to run after him, to grab him and ask why but he doesn’t need to. When Yeosang hadn’t walked after him immediately, the other had turned around, throwing a glance at him before turning around again, gesturing him with a small wave to follow him. 

“For someone who wants to get to know me, you surely keep your distance.” 

Yeosang didn’t need to be told twice, easily catching up with the other and walking a few meters behind him, mesmerized by what was surrounding them and how perfectly the man fitted into the frame. Where he was lead, he wasn’t sure but it got quieter around them, sun breaking through the treetops and illuminating their way. Animals singing and chirping around them, occasionally a bee flying past them. They walked in silence and Yeosang’s gaze stuck to the other’s back, seeing the light red tips of the ears poking through the brown hair and found it oddly endearing. They came to a halt when the boy stopped, hesitantly sitting down on a bench and looking up at him expectantly. 

His heart did a leap at the gaze he got, the eyes watching him through the hair and evoked feelings he couldn’t describe. Yeosang smiled softly and sat down next to him, keeping a certain space between them to not make him uncomfortable again. Even though it was hard, he tore his eyes away and took the nature in he saw again. The garden was still simple but beautiful, in this part more trees than flowers but he didn’t mind, each part of the garden looking well taken care of. 

“San.” He hears a whisper and turns his head, the man not daring to look him in the eyes. “My name is Choi San.”

“A beautiful name, it suits you.” Yeosang hums, seeing how San’s ears just get a little redder. 

“And you?” 

“Me?” 

“Your name?” San asks, his tone sounding a little accusing but the blush was giving him away. 

“Ah right I’m sorry, beautiful, you made me forget for a moment.” He laughs, seeing how San looks at him, furrowing his eyebrows. “My name is Kang Yeosang.” 

“And here you are, saying my name is beautiful-“

“It is.”

“Can you stop?” San whined, burring his face in his hands. “This is really not good for my heart.” 

Yeosang couldn’t stop the smile creeping up on his face, feeling how his own cheeks grew hot at San’s words. He had never known he could make someone so flustered and like it; like how drawn he was to the man and his reaction. The way San peeked behind his hands only to hide again when he saw Yeosang staring at him. Wondered why he hadn’t met the other earlier, why fate had them separated for so long but one thing he knew for sure – he wanted to know more and never leave again. Such a strong feeling of need.

“I want to get to know you better, San. Can I ask questions or would this make you uncomfortable?” 

San sighs into his hands, shuffling around a little before he lifts his head and pouts at him. Pouts. At him. Yeosang feels like his brain just short circuited, completely unavailable. How could someone be so cute? He has to swallow, playing off his own red hue before he can compose his posture, taking a deep breath. 

“You can.” San says, still pouting and Yeosang’s heart can’t seem to stop beating outside of his ribcage. “But! Only if I can ask one first.”

“Y-yeah sure.” _Why am I stuttering? What have you done to me?_

“Why… Why did you approach me?” 

_Such a silly question_. If Yeosang had learned one thing over the short span of his life, it had been that life was transient, unstoppable. How could he not enjoy the little things, small details in his life and learn from them, grow stronger, smarter – be a more experienced person. He just had to talk with him, his curiosity not letting it go. Yeosang was glad he had listened to his mind, had he other wise missed San and most likely never interacted. 

“When I first saw the garden, I was mesmerized by it. I had only seen the one at my home for the past five years, seeing one so different had me captivated. It was less in every aspect.” Yeosang says, a gentle smile on his lips. San’s eyes seem to glisten in the summer sun. “Excuse my wording, in no way did I meant this garden is less beautiful. This garden is quiet exquisite, minimalistic but practical and I love it. It is so different from what I am used to see, it is refreshing to say the least. It looks almost natural.” With a gesture he points at the nature around them, the beauty they are surrounded with. “I was told you where the one in charge of this beauty, so I had to come over.” 

It was short, could have been his imagination but Yeosang was sure his eyes weren’t playing with him when he saw sadness in San’s expression. It was gone so fast, Yeosang had no time to react and San gave him nothing to react to, immediately turning away, facing the garden. Yeosang wanted nothing more than to reach out and embrace the other, listen to his worries but he knew he had no right to. 

“I… Yes, this is my garden, my job, my home.” San mutters quietly, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. “It is of no importance, really. Just another park - or garden, if you prefer this wording. You can find similar ones in every town.”

“But none of them are done by you.” 

Yeosang knows now what he is doing, what his heart is beating for and what his mind is already doing to him. Youngjo had explained it many times, the way he would feel eventually. Had seen how Youngjo had done it countless times to Hwanwoong, and the younger back at him. He was showing love interest, ‘flirting’ how Youngjo had called it. His mentor was so smooth at it, he had wondered if he could ever do such a thing but here was, so easily talking with a man he had just meet but felt connected to in a deeper way. Sitting next to a man he considered to be the most beautiful he had ever seen, someone who’s presence alone made his heart considerably faster. 

“In what way would it matter who takes care of a garden?” San mutters, his head hanging low. 

He wonders, had no one ever told San he was doing a good job? Had the townspeople not appreciated his hard work? It made his heart ache painfully just thinking that the beautiful man wasn’t getting the recognition he deserved.

“It matters to me, San. Just in this way I was able to meet you, see the person who is skilled enough to tend a garden which I would never be capable of.” Yeosang’s voice is gentle, warm, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. “You might not believe me since we just met but I will say it as often as I need to; what matters to you, matters for me too. I am not a man of empty words, I tend to say what I think, as you might have noticed. My interest in you is real, so is my interest in what you do and what you love – including this garden.”

Yeosang could have pretended to not see the slightly shaking shoulders, ignore the way San deflated but he can’t, not when a thick tear runs down the brown haired man’s face. If it was a good logical reaction, he doesn’t know but he scoots closer anyway, embracing the crying man ever so lightly with his arms. San stills at his contact, making Yeosang hum a little, patting the other’s back. Maybe it was the touch on San’s back but San fell against his shoulder, quiet whimpers leaving his mouth. Yeosang felt heartbroken, had he just met a boy that at a simple praise, broke; probably not used to someone praising his work at all. How he wished he could give him the safety he needed, deserved. A wet patch formed on his shoulder but he couldn’t care less, holding onto him dearly.

For how long they sat there he was unsure, had he watched the sun’s movement through the treetops. The body trembling in his arms. With time passing his thoughts became clearer, focused even. No matter who this man was in the end, no matter what relationship they might develop, Yeosang wanted to see him again, to make sure he was safe and sound. He wondered, where this similar feelings Youngjo had for Hwanwoong? Obviously they knew each other way longer, their bond stronger but Yeosang wanted something like they had, something fulfilling with San. If the man in question would deny, it would break Yeosang and he knew this, however, he was man of his word and would let the other be. 

Now, with the small hiccups leaving San’s mouth, he held him a little closer. It seemed to be the cue for San to snap out of his trance, weakly pushing him off with one hand while he held the other over his face to hid it. Yeosang tried to pry away the hand but it was to no vail. 

“I-I… I am terribly sorry.” Was all San got past his lips. 

“For what are you sorry about, beautiful?” Yeosang whispers, not wanting to scare him off even more, an arm length now between them. 

“You are a merely stranger to me, yet here I am, spilling my tears on your clothes, Sorcerer.” He wanted to tell the boy his clothes where his least priority right now but San made him shut up. “Forgive me for such ignorance. Usually I now my boundaries, I do not understand what… possessed me so suddenly.” 

“You have nothing to be sorry about, San. In your actions where no disrespect, could have never disrespected me in any way. If I would be offended, I would have told you so.”  
Yeosang tries and is able to lift San’s hand away from his face, gentle cupping it with his own. His thumb slowly traces over his cheek, brushing away the tears when they fell. Their eyes met, San looking up through his eyelashes but it breaks Yeosang on so many stages, a frown to visibly on his face. The young man’s eyes where red from the crying, his cheeks dusted from exhaustion, lip bitten as a result of trying to hold the sounds in. He wanted to embrace him, tell him everything would be fine, he knew he couldn’t, not yet but Yeosang hoped to be the one at San’s side one day. 

“I will come back as often as I can, will tell you each time what wonderful work you are doing until you finally believe me.” He smiles when San’s tears finally cease. “I will prove you that my words are not empty.” 

San just looked at him and they sat there again, just watching each other before Yeosang notices the sun slowly setting, grimacing at the thought of leaving San behind. But he had to go, for now at least. The beautiful man just looks at him, seemingly searching in his eyes for something before he stands up, walking Yeosang back to where they had started their journey. Sometimes, silence was a bliss but Yeosang wasn’t sure if he liked this silence, had he hoped San would at least try to make him stay or ask what his original questions where. They could wait for now, obviously. 

When Yeosang saw the path which would led him out of the garden, he turns around and sees San standing a few meters behind him, his gaze locked on Yeosang. Something seemed to be on his mind and Yeosang was tempted to ask but refrained from it, had he not made this man already uncomfortable enough.

“Will you come back…” San whispers, so silently he was at first unsure if he had imagined it, “Yeosang?” 

For a moment the world around them stops and its just them, Yeosang feels it. Feels the nervousness of the other, the hesitation and it evokes the butterflies in his stomach to fly and play, his heart running as fast as cheetah. 

“Of course. I cannot promise you when, my mentor needs to agree with me to let me visit the town again but I will come.” His voice wavers a little when San looks up, a hopeful gleam in them and Yeosang had never hoped more that his feelings, his words had reached someone. “Wait for me?” 

“… Yes.” 

Oh how he wished he would have never told Youngjo about it, the older becoming a snickering mess for hours and days, bringing it up whenever they had time to talk about something else than Yeosang’s studies. At some point, Yeosang got annoyed by it, had he just wanted help from the elder, some guidance on what to do. Never had he felt like this and his parents where unavailable to ask, so it left him with Youngjo, who never listened. A few days after the incident he had enough, forcefully sitting down the other in a chair and throwing an annoyed gaze at him, arms folded over his chest. 

“I want your help and not your teasing, Youngjo. Why can you not help me?” A whine left his mouth, throwing his head back in frustration. 

Youngjo simply laughs at his antics, grinning at him as if Yeosang was a child throwing a tantrum – which he probably was in the elder’s eyes. 

“There is nothing for me to help you with, Sang. This is something you have to discover on your own. Love is difficult, not easy to read; you have to find your own way.”  
Love? Yeosang shudders at the wording, the revelation hitting him full force. Had he fallen in love with San? With a man he had seen once, spoken to once? 

“How- How can I love someone I have seen just once?” He asks, taking a chair and sitting down in front of the other. “Is this possible?” 

“Of course it is, Yeosang.” Youngjo hums, still grinning. “It is called ‘falling in love at the first sight’ and it happens. But there are other possibilities too. You could be attracted to his features, for one. Another one but less common is finding your soulmate. Love is mysterious and unpredictable, no one can say how feelings eventually evolve.”

“Soulmates? That is a fairytale, Youngjo.” 

“Not necessarily. As I said, it is less common, happens so rarely it became a myth amongst the living but it is true nonetheless. Soulmates find together no matter what, sharing feelings in a way others could never possibly understand.” 

“Sounds like you know what you are talking about.” He points out, making Youngjo laugh. 

“Maybe, however, this is not about me but about you. When do you think you will see him again?” 

“I have been thinking about him nonstop, I cannot get him out of my head. My mind had wanted me to visit him every single day but whenever I tried to ask you for permission, you snickered and gave me more work. Tell me, how can I possibly see him again if you do not listen to me.”

Yes, Yeosang was a little mad his mentor, had he tried to bring up the topic countless of times but Youngjo had brushed it away so casually as if it was nothing. 

He wondered if San was really waiting for him, waiting for his return like he had promised to do so. Was San wondering he would show up, if Yeosang broke the promise? Shuddering at the thought he tried to erase them, nothing about San being let down by him. No, he wanted to see the other genuinely smile, not cry because of him; he was of no worth the beautiful man’s tears. 

“It would be to late to let you out today, I must say. However, if you work well today, tomorrow shall be your free day. You can go and visit your beauty, lover boy.” 

Sometimes – really, just rarely – he had the big urge to strangle the other but Yeosang remained calm, thanking his mentor for the opportunity of finally seeing San again. 

Yeosang would lie if he didn’t notice himself how he seemed more concentrated now, focused on his tasks and Youngjo didn’t comment it but Yeosang saw it in his eyes. The elder finally understanding what importance San had to him after the short but meaningful meeting. Yeosang prepared potions, restocked what needed to be restocked and noted which ingredients he should get when he would visit the town the next day. For the first time in days he was finally able to concentrate on a spell he had tried to learn for weeks, being able to master the first part of it in the late night hours when the moon was already up high. With a last satisfied hum did Youngjo send him to bed, saying he had done enough for the day and should rest for what would await him tomorrow. 

Yeosang went to bed but found himself unable to sleep, his thoughts circling around the brown haired man. Never had he felt the urge to see someone so strongly, not even his own parents. San was constantly in his mind, the way his eyes had glistened on this sunny day, how his cheeks had recolored at his words. He wished he could him in his arms again, press him against his chest and listen to his soothing voice, giving all the protection and attention San deserved. For now all he could do was lie on his bed, the walls of his room threatening to crush him – Yeosang paid these feelings no mind, had his mind set on San only, nothing else mattered. 

He found sleep eventually, the sun already on the verge of setting. 

Words surely travelled fast, Yeosang had to notice. It had only been a couple of days after his first visit but this time people recognized him, the clothing he wore as something more than just a simple sorcerer. He heard their words of praise, of false love. Yeosang smiled at and thanked them, some even tried to gift items to them; he had to decline. Never could he take things from the hardworking people, had he enough of everything at his home. Until he finally found the shop he was originally on the search for before he would visit the garden again. 

It was a small shop but Yeosang had felt drawn to it from the first moment, something about it felt familiar, save. Without hesitation he walked over, already in the move of opening it when a voice cut through. 

“Sir, you should not enter this shop, it is dangerous.” 

Yeosang turned to the voice. It was a young girl, most likely not older than fifteen, her voice high and her physiques small, delicate but she stood tall. Her black hair was falling over her shoulders in waves and if he hadn’t already met San, he would have said she was beyond beautiful; in the end she couldn’t compare to San in his eyes. Still he wondered how many beautiful people this town had.

“What do you mean.” 

It wasn’t a question and he made sure she understood, his gaze crossing hers before she respectfully avoided her gaze, starring at the ground. For a moment they stood idly around and Yeosang saw the townspeople stop and talk among themselves, their whispers so loudly in his ears. 

“This- this shop is owned by a witch and her family.” She whispers embarrassed, finding out how ridiculous she must sound to a sorcerer. “They are dangerous.”

“What is your name, child?” Yeosang came closer to her and was reminded of Youngjo, the elder had said those words so long ago to a child from around the same age. A life changing question.

“Jang Wonyoung, sir.” 

“Listen Wonyoung.” He says, his voice way gentler than before. “I appreciate your warning, I will be careful but I am a trained sorcerer, do not worry for my wellbeing.” 

He saw how the edges of her mouth twitched, wanting to say something but she seemed to decide against it. Instead she gulped, nods and turns around, leaving him where she had first stopped him. Yeosang had the feeling it wouldn’t be the last time he would see the girl named Wonyoung around. 

A little annoyed at the wasted time he turns around again and enters the shop this time without any hindrance. With a soft ‘thud’ did the door close behind him. Yeosang smiled, knowing immediately why he had been drawn to the place. The shop was filled over and over with books, he could never count them all. On some of them grew plants, other’s where neatly organized but dusted over. Plants where everywhere, in each empty space, some glowing softly while other’s reached for the sunlight filtering through the windows. A counter had been placed at the back of the room, a single red rose neatly placed on top, a shelve with potions on the wall behind. His curiosity was awakened, his eyes scanning anything he could see, remembering for later purposes. 

“Welcome young man.” 

His head snapped back to the counter, an elderly woman casually smiling at him and he was pretty sure there had no one had been there prior, had not heard any movement in the room. Where had she come from? It took him a moment before he recognized her – it was the elderly woman he had met before, the only reason why he had met San in the first place.

“It is you.” 

“Indeed, it is me.” She smiled, so simple and easy, Yeosang couldn’t help but to smile too. 

“I apologize for my words, I had no inte-“

“Do not apologize for something so trivial, young man. Instead come inside and tell me what I can do for you.” She waved him over, her hands wrinkled and covered in age spots yet she seemed energetic and lively. Yeosang only hesitated for a second before walking through the room, stopping in front of the counter, mesmerized by the potions behind her head. 

“I was warned to not come inside.” He says, eyes flickering over the shelve, trying to make out with potion he knew and which where new. 

“It is always the same with these scared people, all they do is gossip, saying we would curse them eventually.” She sighs theatrically, waving her hand dismissively. “A sorcerer and a witch have much in common, people just turn a blind eye to the fact.”

“Truly, witches and sorcerers are both users of magic, of the natural energy around them. The only difference is that witches are the sorcerers with less potential, making them often experts in other fields like curses or potion brewing.” 

She hums in delight, her eyes glistening a little and because of the few sunrays which where are able to break through the window, Yeosang is able to see her eyes. Yeosang immediately recognizes those eyes, how could he not. A laugh left her lips when Yeosang was able to piece one and one together.

“He is my grandchild.”

“I see. You send me to him, for what purpose?” 

“Sometimes fate needs a little push, would you have ever seen him without my help?” She snickers, flashing him a grin and he wonders how one can stay so lively at the high age. “San is a shy child, the townspeople have nothing against him but they do not love him either. For them, he is like air. If they need to interact with him, they do but despite these occasions they ignore his existence. Do you understand now why I send you to him?”

He did. How horrible it must feel to be invisible to other’s just because of your heritage, for something he had no influence on whatsoever. Just the thought of seeing San slowly wither away on the bench they had sat upon, the garden slowly claiming him, made Yeosang anxious. If they don’t provide what San deserved, he would. 

“The few hours I spent getting to know your grandchild had been some of the best in my life up till now. I sincerely thank you.” 

And his gratitude was real. Of course, starting to learn white magic, meeting Youngjo and saving lives where turning points in his life but none of them had ever made such an impact on him in such a short time. Yeosang never brought it up in the conversation he had with her but she seemed to know his intentions nonetheless, happily providing him with the essentials he had actually come for before shooing him out of the house, telling him to make her grandchild happy. A warm smile hushed over his lips while her voice ringed in his ears, enjoying how secure they made him. 

The townspeople around him watched him with curiosity and he couldn’t help but smile back at them, showing off that nothing was wrong with him after a visit at the witch’s shop. Most of them hurriedly scurried away, embarrassed to be caught staring but one held his gaze and Yeosang had almost laughed at the girl. 

“I am more than fine, Jang Wonyoung.” 

She gasped, eyes blown wide but he did not spared her another glance, walking down the street he had originally taken to the garden. He feels her eyes burning in his back but he doesn’t mind, his mind now set on only one thing, so he had to hurry. 

Thanks to his extraordinary memory Yeosang found the way back with ease. Nothing had changed in the matter of a few days, the only other thing now was San. Yeosang had to find the beautiful man in the depths of the garden. His first guess seemed to be right, had he followed the path San had guided him before and indeed found the other, silently sitting on the bench, eyes unfocused loosing themselves between the trees. With a smile he sat down next to the other and waited, let San think and analyze, not pushing for anything. 

With the time passing he can’t keep his eyes away from San, staring at the other, taking in the beauty right in front of him. For the first time he noticed San’s posture, how thin he seemed to be, his body nearly drowning in the clothing – Yeosang wondered how thin he actually had to be under the clothes, why he wasn’t eating enough. He was worried but his hands where tied. Seeing San from the side also made him realize what a beautiful side profile San possessed. Yeosang wanted to reach for it, touch the soft skin against his fingertips, his palms and maybe, his lips. _God_ , he prayed, _forgive me for these sinful thoughts, I cannot help myself._

Kissing San had been one of the thoughts which never left his consciousness, friendly reminding him for his feelings for the other. More than once had he pictured those perfect lips on his, imagining their warmth, the way they would work against his, what sounds he would draw out of the other – he pinched himself to make the thoughts vanish. How could he think like this when San was sitting right next to him, oblivious to the fact that a complete stranger was head over heels for him. 

“What are you thinking about…” San’s voice suddenly broke their silence, the other now looking right back at him. Yeosang had to gulp to not feel shy under San’s gaze. “Yeosang.”

“You. All I am thinking about is you. It has been only you for days.” 

San shakes his head and Yeosang’s heart speeds up at what he hears; San is laughing. Yeosang swore he had never heard something more beautiful, more melodic than San’s laugh. He smiled, feeling the heat on his cheeks but ignored it, way to focused on the being named Choi San. The way San’s eyes became crescents, his cheeks puffing and Yeosang couldn’t stop the thought of wanting to hear him laugh forever, to cherish until his time is to go had come. 

“You are ridiculous Yeosang, you really are.” 

“Maybe.” Yeosang agreed, laughing with the other. 

“What are you think about – besides thinking about me.” 

“Mostly? My studies.” He said, casting his away from San, smiling to himself.

“Your studies? I thought you do look very smart, never had I assumed you would still study.” 

_“One shall never stop discovering_ – my mentor says this a lot and I found myself living after this. With each day passing I notice how much I do not know, the many things I have yet to catch up with.” For a moment he lets his mind wander to the many lessons he had undergone. “Learning and executing white magic has been my profession for the last five years, have been devoting my life to this only purpose; to help with the ones in need when a sorcerer like me is requested.”

Yeosang let’s the word hang between them for a while, understanding well that San might need a moment to think about his words. Devoting yourself to one task seems to be a rather hard decision in his still young life, many not finding a purpose to live on until the day they eventually pass on. 

“The idea of learning from a mentor is pretty intriguing I must say.” 

“How come?”

“I never visited a school, if you wonder. To learn from someone who is willing to put up with you sounds like a far imagination to me.” San’s words made him look back at the other, seeing a distant longing in his eyes. 

“But you have been taught?” Yeosang said, rather bluntly but San seems to not take notice of it. “Someone had to taught you on how to take care of a garden.”

Without hesitation, not a single word spoken, San stands up, smiling at him before he gestures him to follow, walking in a direction Yeosang was yet unfamiliar with. He follows nonetheless, wondering what San might want to show him. They don’t take long until Yeosang can see something shimmering through the green around him, light reflecting the bright summer sun. He has to close his eyes shortly, blinded by the light. With narrowed eyes he stays close behind San, trying to not accidently trip by the inability to see.  
However, when they arrive, his eyes widen in surprise but close immediately after he had looked up, directly into the sun. He hears how San sniffles a laugh next to him and Yeosang wants to bit back, say something, anything but the words die in his throat when he’s finally able to open his eyes. It wasn’t the way San looked at him and neither the way their surroundings shook in excitement, the wind howling ever so lightly while passing through the masses of green leaves, making them swing. No, it was the expression San wore that made him gulp, wondering if he could burn the image into his memory for all eternity. The other seemed at peace, harmonizing with the world around him in a way Yeosang would never fully understand but he craved for it, craved to understand how he could make San this peaceful. 

“This place-“ San gestures around him, over the small lake right in front of their eyes up to the forest on the other side, “- has been my home place since I was able to walk on my own. I came here for hours upon hours, engulfed by mother nature. Not with both hands am I able to count the times I have crossed this lake to wander in the forest beyond of it. It was here where I first knew I wanted to give back to the nature but I never knew how. Until she appeared.” 

Yeosang thought he might see longing or desire in San’s eyes at the words but found neither, instead San smiled warmly – a content smile. 

“She had observed me for years, saw my love for this place and decided. One day she sat down next to me, a straight face looking back at my, most likely, shocked one and her voice was tough but warm. _I can teach you how to tend my garden, how to take care of the beauty around you._ I became her pupil afterwards and for the years to come I found myself in this garden, doing my best to keep this garden alive.” He laughs, a little drawn into his own memory. “She died last year and gave this garden to me, to keep it alive and well even after her passing.” 

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Is all Yeosang can say, his chest tightening at the confession. 

“Do not be. I miss her, yes, but I moved on. What good would I do, sitting here and whining about how unfair life is? She was old, death is the only possible solution for a life to end. Instead I do my best to keep her dream going. A place where both nature and humankind can be at peace.”

“That is indeed a wonderful dream.” 

Yeosang was at a loss of words, on what else he could say. San just had showed him his most sacred place, to him, a stranger whom he had met just a few days ago. He was moved. It was his silence which made San look at him and Yeosang saw the vulnerability in them because San had just bared himself to him, even it was just a bit. 

With a shot courage and bravery Yeosang took San’s hand in his, drawing slow circles over his hand. He noted how rough San’s hands where, bumps and cuts making the once flawless skin bumpy but Yeosang didn’t mind. San tried to pry his hand out of his grasp, the reddening on his face due to the difference of their hands – Yeosang’s was smooth but not flawless. Of course San would notice but Yeosang didn’t care how San’s hands where, only thinking about all the hard work this hands had already done. The other gave up eventually, letting their hands rest against each other. His heart was beating to fast, his lips absently minded biting his lip but not once did he want to break the contact. He warmth flowing through his body was pleasantly, inviting, addictive; so scarily similar to when he had first used white magic. Youngjo’s words begin to ring in his ears, warning him to be careful but this time, he doesn’t listen. To be drunk of San, to be addicted sounded way to promising to not chase the feeling. 

“Thank you for sharing this with me, knowing this place means so much to you, I cannot describe how happy your trust makes me.” 

Things changed afterwards; to the better. Youngjo let him out more often, sending him out to fetch things in the town and giving him the time to visit San with it. He had never been happier. His mentor was still teasing him a lot, always reminding him to take it easy with the poor boy and the crimson blush on Yeosang’s cheeks had never been darker before. No, he certainly did not push his mentor accidently into the fountain once – the elder fell inside by himself. Yeosang stood by his point. 

Over time he learned San was younger than him, not by much but still, it was a revelation, making his instinct to protect and give San everything he wanted even stronger. They way they interact through the revelation didn’t change as much as he had expected, both still carefree enough to speak about pretty much everything with each other, learning more and growing closer over time.

On another level did the way they interacted with each other change drastically. It had taken Yeosang weeks until San had finally and completely believed him that he was indeed interest in the other – that he was courting San, the very Choi San. Not getting to know him like a friend would but like a lover. He could vividly remember how red the other had become when he had finally acknowledged Yeosang’s tries at wooing him, mumbling shyly that he couldn’t believe Yeosang would do such a thing. The shade of red had matched the beautiful red spots in his eyes and Yeosang found it hard to believe they were real. It had been the first day Yeosang had ever kissed San, not on the precious lips but on the back of his hand, pressing his lips just lightly against the warmth. San’s lips where another story both were not ready to read just yet, rather bathing in the slow growth they had settled into. However, San had not tried to tug his hand away or slapped him for his rude and invasive action, but giggled. Yeosang’s heart had been racing that day, feeling how butterflies tried to escape his ribcage, to be set free. Their feelings became somewhat mutual. 

San often preferred to have a few centimeters parting them, staying at a distance of safety and in the beginning Yeosang had wondered why, had he not done anything inappropriately with the younger yet. When confronted, San had confessed he was overwhelmed by the attention Yeosang showered him with, feeling _mushy and hot_ whenever Yeosang touched him in the slightest. San obviously didn’t fear him but the very feelings he had evoked in him, the burning desire to stay by the one you love. Yeosang respected it, giving him the time he needed to overcome his shyness on his own accord, so it felt even more rewarding when San one day had interwind their hands on a stroll through the garden. The shy but confident smile San had flashed, melted Yeosang’s doubts in a matter of seconds.

Doubt. For some time he had doubted, if it had been the right decision to make a move on a young man, said one never been loved before; neither by friends nor lover, just his family. Yeosang feared he lead the other astray, blinding him with his own undeniable attraction and make him commit to something he would regret dearly. Even though he had been in a similar position once, he had let people in after he started to live at the mansion, the love he received there was undeniably strong. As if he was the child of the mansion, asking for attention, which he clearly did not but fighting it only worsened the situation. Nowadays he loved it, loved the feeling of someone appreciating you and secretly he hoped he could show San such appreciation someday. Still, night after night Yeosang had stayed awake, wondering what the best outcome would be. Asked himself how he could make San happy, even if he might fail on making the other his. Wished the other was thinking about him as dearly as he was. Eventually Yeosang always fell asleep, sometimes only with the help of a sleeping spell but it was alright, they were alright.

It had been a back and forth between them for weeks, becoming months. Sometimes San craved his attention, his touch, asking for their hands to be intertwined or for Yeosang to engulf him in a hug. Other times it felt like they were back to square one, San keeping his distance. Surely they both where shy about the whole courting and eventually claiming but Yeosang stood by his decision, not regretting a single minute he spend with the younger. So when San one day pressed a feather like kiss against his cheek, Yeosang wondered how his brain had not yet be burned out. 

It hadn’t stayed at the kiss on the cheek, the younger standing up and – Yeosang wondered to this day where San had suddenly taken the courage from – stood between his legs. His hands, which never felt softer before, cupped his cheeks and still rough palms had felt so burning hot against his skin. San had leaned down halfway, his eyes flickering between Yeosang’s eyes and his lips, gulping when Yeosang leaned in too. In the end it was Yeosang who had pulled San down the last bit, his hands gentle pushing the younger from behind his head. The surprised yelp had drowned in a content sigh. It was not as magical as Youngjo always made him believe it would be but it for sure toped every other situation he has had with San up until the point. 

It was a simple pressing of lips against lips, neither of them having experience in what they were doing but none of them minded, the action itself speaking louder than any experience. Somehow they knew what they had to do, knew how to angle their headset to not feel awkward about it and Yeosang bathed in the younger’s presence. Feeling overwhelmed by San’s soft but chapped lips, the way the brown haired male’s hand wandered down from Yeosang’s cheeks to his neck then his shoulders, gripping the fabric under his fingers. Yeosang fingers started to play with the hair on San’s neck, enjoying how he shuddered a little at his teasing touch. 

Yeosang had eventually broken the kiss, pressed his forehead against San’s, relishing in the view he got. San being absolute beautiful with eyelids fluttered close, a dusty red on his cheeks and the little tongue sticking out from those kissable lips, almost in a testing matter licking over the once kissed lips. To say Yeosang had wanted to dive right back in would be correct, so he had to stop himself from kissing his love senseless. _His love_. Yeosang had wanted to know where San got his boldness from but he refrained from asking, not wanting to embarrass the man even more. 

Their relationship had been unlabeled ever since but San warmed up to him, the days of sitting half an arm away from him becoming less and less until the younger had been comfortable enough with him, initiating skin ship more often. 

But them taking their time didn’t mean the world stopped, no the world around them moved on. The weather got harsher, the upcoming winter nocking on their door. Yeosang tried his best to come as often as human possible but with winter coming, their requests began to pile up. Youngjo had been requested countless times, travelling to the farthest ends of the country to cure what a normal doctor could not fix, making Yeosang in charge of what happened around the mansion. He felt proud that Youngjo believed in his abilities, trusting him enough to give up the main sorcerer role while he was away. Hwanwoong didn’t seem to enjoyed it to be left with Yeosang but with Youngjo absent, they just had each other for the time being. 

When the time allowed, he visited San and asked for his forgiveness of coming less frequently. The younger always chuckled, playfully dancing around him in an attend to get out of his peripheral view – Yeosang would feel him close anyway, San’s presence already imprinted on his very mind. Spending less time with San meant they had to catch up more when they actually met. Oh and what Yeosang had to say. His task got weirder each time, some patients beyond understanding and the countless stories Yeosang had up on his sleeve made San laugh more than once. Yeosang was glad he could make him laugh even through the hard time. While Yeosang always worried over the sanity of some of his patients, San had other stories to tell. Heart warming ones.

With Yeosang’s frequent visits had the town slowly accustomed to another dynamic with San; they started to greet him, not completely ignoring him like they were used to do and San was euphoric. Not necessarily for the change itself but for mood it set, confessed he had feared the townspeople would try to break whatever the two of them had because San was a descended of a witch. Yeosang had immediately reassured him that, no matter who it was, his feelings for San would never change and no one would ever be able to chase him away – only San himself would be able to do such things to Yeosang. 

“There is another thing.” San said, his smile so blinding. Yeosang only hummed, pulling San onto his lap without much struggle from the younger. “There is a girl in town, she said she knows you. I think her name is Wonyoung? I cannot remember it to say the truth.” 

“Indeed, I had met her the second time I visited your town.” 

“You remember this?” San asks shocked, turning his head back to look at a smiling Yeosang. “It has been months!

“Have I ever forgot something, beautiful?” Yeosang snickered, pulling the younger closer once more, his back flush against Yeosang’s chest. With a content sigh he nuzzled the brown locks, inhaling the sweet scent of undeniable San, San, _San_. “What is she of importance to you, love?” 

San laughed, the vibration sending shivers through Yeosang’s body. His arms tightened around the younger’s waist but squeezing a little to make San speak again. His strategy was a successes when San yelped, lightly hitting his arms. 

“She apologized for her behavior towards you and us, the Choi family. It was rather sweet, I tell you. She had been very nervous but once my grandmother had her inside, the two got along so well, I left the house before she did. The next day my grandmother introduced her as pure angel and called her a giant baby, so I have only called her giant baby ever since.” The younger leans back into Yeosang’s touch, letting his head rest on his shoulder. “I think her appearing and apologizing to us was the best which could have happened to my grandmother. Your appearance had made her happy but Wonyoung’s… She seems so incredible happy, it makes me happy too.” 

“Now that you mention it.” Yeosang says but it’s mumbled. “Maybe she feels drawn to her because of the magic resonance in her. I had not paid to much mind to it but even I could feel that indeed Wonyoung had some kind of magic in her. I am glad your grandmother can live a little happier now.” 

True to his words, San had led him right back to the shop his grandmother owned, only to see the young girl idly sitting on a chair, patting a dog. When they entered she looked up, her eyes visibly widening when she saw Yeosang accompanying San. She hurriedly stood up to bow, the dog whining at the loss of touch. Yeosang side eyed San to see if Wonyoung always bowed but the surprised look of his love told him otherwise. 

“No need to bow, Wonyoung. Lift your head.” 

She seemed hesitant, her long black hair shielding her face from his eyes. Before neither of them had the chance to say another thing, a warm voice resonated through the room.

“You heard him, lift your head. This young man cannot hold a grudge, do not worry.” 

Yeosang had instantly laughed at her voice, felt how much he had missed San’s grandmother. When she had made herself comfortable in a chair, their eyes had crossed and the warmth in them had reminded him so much of San. In the corner of his eyes he had seen how Wonyoung had sat down again, the dog happily walking back to her, wagging his tail. 

“Yeosang dear, I hope you do now that I have to technically warn you about hurting my precious boy’s feelings or else things would not end well for you. However-“ Her eyes shifted to San who blushed bright red at his grandmother’s words, whining loudly at her to stop but she just laughed at his attempt. “I see you take rather good care of him, even if your schedule is packed and loaded with work. But as a matter of fact, I will warn you now. Do not dare to hurt San.”

“I will not, I promise. San is the light in my darkness, there is nowhere to go without him, I am incapable of moving on without him.” 

What he said, he meant it. Ever since San had stepped into his life, Yeosang had found something else besides his studies that could fill his heart and satisfy his need to know more because San was someone he would never be able to fully explore and know. A lifetime he would need to map out and understand – Yeosang was up for the challenge. With the time moving, they moved to. From innocent first pecks and kisses they had moved on, the rising tension between more often present than earlier in there not labelled relationship. However, both deemed the time not right to fully commit to each other, times of pure intimacy pushed away until both found the time to be right.

Sadly, after his visit at the shop, Yeosang’s schedule got even fuller, making him stay away from San most days until December rolled in and Christmas was right in front of their doors. With heavy steps he made his way one more time down the streets, his sleepy mind filled with regret and sadness. He met San at his grandmother’s place, the snow making San stay away from the garden most of the time. Normally his love’s eyes would lit up when he saw Yeosang but this time his expression fell in an instant, rushing to his side with a worried expression.

“What is wrong, Sang?” 

San’s voice trembled a little, out of nervousness or worry, Yeosang wasn’t sure which it was but it made him even guiltier. With a sad smile he sneaked his hands on San’s waist, imprinting the feeling of San under his fingers for the millionth time, worried he might forget eventually. 

“I am sorry, beautiful, I have sad news for you.” Yeosang didn’t want to say the words he would say, not only guilt but also longing tripping inside of him. He had wondered many times, how he could dodge such things but in the end, he had to comply, it wasn’t his decision. “I have to leave soon, I will not be able to spend Christmas or new years eve with you.” 

“W-what? Why?”

The pain and sadness in San’s eyes made his heart wrench. God, he had promised to give him the world, yet here he was, ripping away some of the beautiful man’s happiness.  
“A request from the royal officers and also my mentor. There is a powerful sorcerer directly under the royal family who trains selected students for a short time period.” He should be euphoric, happy a man of high status had selected him but Yeosang couldn’t feel happy about it. “After discussing with Ravn, they decided it is my time to go and train.” 

“How long?” 

“Three months.” 

Yeosang’s voice was barely more than a whisper, San heard him nonetheless. The man he had devoted his life to crumbled against him but he was shedding no tears, just clawing his chest. Without saying it Yeosang knew, knew that San was mad at him for not bringing it up earlier, mad at the people who tore them apart; mad at himself for getting mad at Yeosang. With any other occasion he would have found it endearing but right now he only pulled the younger closer, basking in his presence, feeling him one last time. 

“When do you need to go?” 

“Tomorrow.” 

A whine left San’s mouth at his words, detaching himself wide enough for their eyes to meet again. San searched for something in his but when he found nothing, pushed his lips against each other. Never had their kiss felt more desperate, the already building up longing for each other coloring the kiss so vividly, Yeosang feared the time without the younger. Feared if time would change them, feared the time of being absent for three months. Without the strength to fight back he let San dominate the kiss, letting San’s unspoken feelings pour into him like rain poured into a sea – he swallowed it all up, bottling it for a later purpose. 

Just the lack of air eventually broke the kiss, both panting in each other’s breath, foreheads pressed together. Yeosang didn’t dare to open his eyes, scared of the emotions he might see in those mesmerizing eyes he had fallen so deeply for. His heart told him to stay, to cherish San how he deserved to be cherish, however, both of them knew that staying no ^^was not an option. It had been decided for him. Yeosang had worked so hard, it was a one of a lifetime opportunity he couldn’t and shouldn’t waste. But no one had told him it would eventually become this hard to just let go, even if it was just for a few months. 

“Will you wait for me?” 

“Of course, Yeosang, I love you too much to not wait for you.” 

By the time Yeosang had arrived back at the mansion he was close to tears, his mind overflowing with emotions he had yet to get through. San had finally labelled their relationship, saying that no one should be able to touch _his lover_ and that he was only _San’s_. Yeosang was beyond happy to hear the younger say such words but it made the goodbye even harder. 

In the end sleeping that night seemed impossible, his mind fighting his consciousness. His sleeping habits had become worse over the past months, increasing the nights in which he had to put a spell on himself to actually sleep just a little. Where the sudden change came from, he was unsure but he would fix it eventually. 

Three months was a long time, he concluded when he sat in the horse carriage while someone sat across from him. Hwanwoong. The elder looked indifferent about the situation, just occasionally steeling glances at him and Yeosang silently wondered how much Hwanwoong actually knew, had the shorter always possessed something like a sixth sense when it came to him. Neither told Youngjo about it. Why Yeosang needed someone to accompany him in the first place, he didn’t understood but the only other person who could have gone with him had been Hwanwoong, explaining rather well why they sat in the horse carriage together. Youngjo had to stay, both sorcerers out of the region would have been a bad decision. 

Regardless to say, staying with the older was rather difficult, since Hwanwoong would bicker with him all day long while saying he had literally nothing to do while he waited for Yeosang’s lessons to be over. Not that it was Yeosang’s fault to begin with. Hwanwoong made him feel guilty anyways. 

The lessons, however, where way more interesting than he had anticipated, had his brain been occupied by thoughts over San so he was finally able to concentrate when he had started his first lesson. To his surprise was his teacher a woman, blindingly beautiful and drop dead gorgeous but her aura was cold, her eyes piercing, the black hair underlining her whole presence. Irene. Yeosang wondered why white magic sorcerers always had to have another name besides their given one but didn’t question it any further, not trying to go against Irene in any way. Despite her cold attitude she was a great teacher, no matter of theoretically or technically Yeosang learned things beyond his understanding, widening his horizon. Suddenly he was able to do countless spells he had never heard of, brew potions of such rare kinds he was forbidden of bringing them up to anybody else besides Youngjo, learned history about white magic not even Youngjo was aware of. 

Still, throughout the whole three months he missed San greatly, his longing for the other steadily rising. The only way they were able to communicate was through letters and Yeosang kept every single one of them, even though Hwanwoong had called him a hopeless romantic. Whenever a letter arrived, he hoped to hear good words and not once did San said anything remotely close to something being bad. Yes, Yeosang had feared San would get tired of waiting for him but San reassured him countless times he would wait at home for him and was desiring the day where they finally could embrace each other again. Yeosang desired this day too. 

His sleep never got better, Hwanwoong asking him time after time if he could help him somehow _because_ he _was annoying trashing around_. Yeosang had given up at questioning Hwanwoong’s reasonings. They didn’t find a solution whatsoever. Something felt off about the elder when they had once again sat down in the horse carriage, this time on their way home. He wasn’t able to pinpoint what it exactly was what threw him off, maybe it was the glances Hwanwoong send him or the other’s inability to stay still. Whatever it was, it made Yeosang nervous too. 

“Have you ever wondered why you can remember everything so clearly?” 

It was a simple question, one he had asked himself many times, too often to count them but hearing it from Hwanwoong made the whole question different. Yeosang’s only idea had been he was gifted, nothing more nothing less. Maybe he wasn’t. What was Hwanwoong’s intention? Had Hwanwoong waited to ask this question, had this made him nervous? 

“Yes, often but I did not find a solution.” 

As if the topic was dropped with his answer, Hwanwoong looked back outside, not even sparring him a single glance afterwards. To say Yeosang was worried would be an understatement. Youngjo and Hwanwoong where the smartest people he knew – besides Irene now – so getting asked such a question seemed odd, weird but calculated. 

Yeosang tried to distract himself, letting his mind wander to the one he loved the most but he wasn’t able to hold these thoughts up for long, when his body suddenly tensed. 

Something changed, hit him with a force which made him unable to breath, his lungs screaming for the air they have been robbed. Hwanwoong was at his side in a matter of seconds, holding him upright when he threatened to fall over. His head hurt. Never had experienced such pain before. _No, that was a lie._

He jolted up, trashed in the elder’s arms, screaming through the pain, the needles endlessly stabbed into his brain. Something flashed in front of his eyes, no not something, someone. 

Yeosang could barely make out Hwanwoong’s cursing, apologizing to him but he didn’t understood why, for what reason the other had to say sorry for. Understood nothing of the words Hwanwoong tried to deliver, the pain overrunning every other thought he could have had. His hands where trembling, holding onto something, most likely Hwanwoong, eyes shut close. 

And then suddenly, it was silent around him. The sounds of the carriage was gone, Hwanwoong’s voice was gone, the noises in his head were gone. Just silence. For a moment it felt like bliss, his body and mind feeling so light, as if nothing of all of this had ever happened. 

Yeosang lost his consciousness do to the pain, the void swallowing him into the black nothingness of his mind but one last thought echoed through his mind. 

_This was not his first life_.


	2. With every dawn embracing the world, a sin shall never be forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm back :D  
> I'm sorry for the delay, I had wanted to update last Sunday but well, life happened. I'm working full time and finding time to write and do other hobbies at the same time can be very exhausting some times… :u   
> Thank you guys so much for the kudos, the comments and the bookmarks, it means a lot to me and motivates me to write more for you. <3
> 
> I might not update every other week since I prefer quality over quantity and I hope you guys are okay with it!   
> I will update the tags now, please look at them to be prepared. 
> 
> In this chapter important tags are: Flashbacks/time jump (I'm not telling you what it is hehe), implied sexual interaction, anxiety/panic/fear but nothing severe, implied character death … :)

It was a warm, lulling feeling which spread throughout his body, trying to tear his waking consciousness down into the dark abyss, putting chains on him. It tried to cling to his mind, spreading the fading darkness into its fullest, like a dark veil put over his mind. In the depths of his subconsciousness he seemed to walk an endless path, no dream able to reach him and lure him in illusions his mind had produced. 

But there was something, low and quiet but it was there, comparable to an underlying buzz but it wasn’t quite like it either. The warmth he had felt became greater, engulfing him in away with no possibility to stray away, threatening to burn him down into ashes. However, he seemed to not fear it, feeling utterly safe with the threat so close. Searching it out even.

A voice slowly reached his subconsciousness, ringing ever so quietly in his ears but something inside of him wanted to reach it, to hear it clearly once more. _Once more?_

What was the voice saying to him? Trying to cast the darkness away from his mind, waking him from the deep sleep? It was still so far, just barely above a whisper but his mind stirred, fighting his subconsciousness from waking up once again. The Voice got louder and something else happened too.

Warmth. Skin. He was being touched, a warmth pressed against his own. But he did not feared it, his subconsciousness seeking it, lured in like bees by flowers or sharks by blood. 

He eventually won the struggle against his own mind. When his mind finally freed him, eyes heavy and throat closed, body just slowly able to get rid of the numbness which had spread through him at some point, he heard the voice clearer; closer. It still wasn’t above a whisper but oh so close to his ear, making him shiver at the sheer closeness he had not felt before. 

“-ng.” 

He had to yet open his eyes and let his mind completely wake up, his body still groggy and thoughts fogged with the sleep he had enjoyed just a moment ago. 

“-sang.”

A touch lingered on his arm, soft fingers tracing patterns into his arm, the tips just feather like ghosting over his heated skin. It wasn’t unpleasant and he felt how a soft hum left his throat, his body shifting back until he felt another heat pressing back. 

“Yeosang.” 

His name – someone was calling his name, but _who_? Yeosang was still not able to fully awake, something desperately trying to tear him back into the black nothingness of his none existent dream. A breath against his ear send a shiver down his spin and reluctantly he lets himself be rolled over by the hand gentle gripping his arm. Without a second passing said arm wanders downwards, a firm hand gripping his waist still gentle and stayed there, no further movement made. 

“Yeosang?” 

This time the voice was closer, obviously since he had turned to the one speaking to him. Yeosang’s mind finally got rid of the fog inside of his mind, recognizing the warm voice which made his heart leap in his chest. The voice he could listen to for hours on end without getting bored in the slightest, a voice he had heard in so many different ways he was sure he could imitate them all if he wanted. Even though his eyelashes stuck together and he needed a couple of tries to finally open them, Yeosang’s heart swelled at the sight in front of him – the smile he was greeted with was everything.

“ _Yunho_.” He whispered back, seeing how the elder’s eyes lit up at his name being called, the soft features on Yunho’s face getting even softer. 

“I thought you would never wake up, darling.” 

The other practically purred and Yeosang fake gagged at him, laughing a little at Yunho’s pouting face. With the feeling back in his body, he finally could move his hand and cup Yunho’s cheek in his palm, the pout slowly disappearing at his touch. For a moment they just laid there, underneath the sheets, caged by warmth and embraced by each other, faces so close their breaths mixing with each exhale. Yeosang shuffled even closer, his head pressing into Yunho’s chest who tucks him under his chin, legs tangled. 

“Sorry, I was just very exhausted.” Yeosang mumbles against his chest, breathing in the scent so undeniable _Yunho_.

“Was I too rough with you yesterday?” 

A kiss was pressed against his hair, slow circles drawn on his hip by Yunho’s thumb and Yeosang shook his head a little, closing his eyes again. 

“You could never.” He said, nosing Yunho’s chest. “I wanted it just as much as you did.” 

Yunho laughs a little but doesn’t mutter a word after, both lying comfortable next to each other until Yeosang yawned, fearing the sleep would hold him in his grasp again. With a disappointed sigh he pushed himself away from the older man’s chest, sitting up. His eyes wander back down to the man still lying in their bed and his gaze falls upon Yunho’s exposed collarbone, immediately wincing when he sees the dark bruises littering there. Embarrassed at his own display of lust he smacks his hands over his face, hiding his reddening cheeks.

Yeosang hears how Yunho coos at his reaction, the bed dipping when the other sat up and Yeosang wanted to escape but was pulled against the broad chest once again.   
“We did so many naughty things but you still blush every time, darling. You are so adorable.” 

He wanted to slap the older or retort something back but the simple press of lips against his neck made him still, Yeosang biting his lower lip to not let a sound escape. A moan slipped past his lips when he felt teeth gentle grazing the skin behind his ear, mumbling sweet nothings against his heated skin. 

“All my markings over your body.” Yunho whispers, biting the shell of his ear. “You look so good with them.” 

“Not- not so early in the morning.” Yeosang grits out, trying hard to not react too much to him. “We need to get up-“

“Not yet.”

“Y-you cannot fool me Yunho. You would never wake me up if it was not yet time to rise.”

A defeated sigh left Yunho’s mouth and slowly he entangled himself from Yeosang, giving a lest peck to the back of Yeosang’s head before he rises completely, standing next to their bed. The older stretches his body before his eyes fall back on Yeosang, who looks at him with a croaked eyebrow. With an mischievous glint in his eyes and a wide smile Yunho dives forward, arms wrapping around Yeosang’s smaller frame and lifting him up. 

“Wah- _Yunho_!” 

Yeosang cries out when he is thrown over Yunho’s shoulder, manhandled with ease, the older only laughing at his struggle to be put down again. Without a second of delay the older walks out of their bedroom and Yeosang can only accept defeat, a pout on his face and his arms dangling with every step. He wasn’t taking him far, soon their surroundings changed from the hallway to the kitchen. With a whine leaving his mouth he was sat down on a chair, already missing the warmth which was Yunho. The elder just side eyed him before softly humming, starting to make breakfast for the two. 

It was their usual routine: Yeosang silently watching the elder preparing their breakfast while the other sang songs he had heard just recently, making Yeosang hum along most of the times. The eating itself was often quiet, no words needed to be exchanged for them to know what was going on. And maybe Yunho’s foot nudging his leg, gliding up and down. The sharp glance he send Yunho didn’t go unnoticed and Yeosang saw the embodiment of a bear smirk at him – he was riling Yeosang up on purpose. By now they would have already started to bicker about Yunho’s openly displayed desire but today Yeosang didn’t felt like it. Even though he was awake, sitting, eating and having a silent conversation, Yeosang could still feel the sleep he had escape from making him drowsy, brain not yet fully working. Yunho noticed, took note of it but let him be, giving Yeosang the space he needed. 

Somehow the morning just went by without Yeosang really noticing it, the heaviness of his subconsciousness still so prominently on his mind, feeling his thoughts drift more than once. He felt Yunho’s eyes on him, worry in his gaze but Yeosang just smiled at him when the elder called him, telling him he would go to work now. With fast steps Yeosang approached him by the door, wrapping his arms around Yunho’s chest. The fresh smell of the deep woods had him enchanted, wanting to rub it on him, in him, consume it and never forget it. It lured him every time, made him forget where they were. But they had so separate eventually, even if both didn’t want to let the other go – they had to. 

So when Yeosang stood in front of Yunho, giving them space, he felt so incredible greedy. 

Greedy that he wanted the older to stay with him, greedy because he needed him around even if it only was for a short time but also egoistic since he overrun Yunho’s feeling by doing so. Still, the heavy feeling inside of him wanted Yunho to stay, to not go and face whatever lied out there. 

He had to go, Yeosang knew it, had he send him out more times than he could count. His heart said no, his mind said yes. Despite his troubled mind he leaned up, pressing his lips against Yunho’s and for a moment he was at peace, content with simply kissing the older. Yunho separated them nonetheless, whispering sweet nothings to ease Yeosang’s whining, their eyes set on each other. 

“I miss you already, darling.” Yunho plants one last kiss on Yeosang’s lips, his gaze filled with pure love. Yeosang’s chest swelled at it. “See you later.” 

And he lets him leave, stepping out of the door into the wide world, just barely recognizing the beautiful blue sky outside nor the fresh green all around them. Only one thing stays on his mind after he sees his love round the corner, the thing he had fallen for so many times. 

_His eyes. The beautiful green spots in his eyes._

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

With a strong racing heart he sat up, a yell leaving his mouth, eyes blown wide. Yeosang’s breath was rigged, uneven, his fast pulse worsening his already hyperventilation state even more. He felt hot, his skin was hot. His shaky hand placed itself over his heart, feeling the strong beat and his sweaty clothes underneath his fingertips, wincing at the unpleasant feeling of being drenched in sweat. For a moment he felt sick, the sudden movement of sitting up causing nausea in him, his head still fogged from the sleep be had been torn out from. 

His mind was racing, erratically trying to understand what had just happened. Wondered why it was so hard for him to remember something so simple. How could Yeosang not remember, the one who never forgets? Almost desperately he searched for his last piece of memory, trying to recreate where he had last been before he woke up in his own room. _His room_?

Surprised he looked around and indeed, it was his room. The books where organized and placed like he had left them, his telescope pointing at the window closest to his bed. Yeosang was home again. Hadn’t he been on- 

_A Horse carriage?_

He whimpered when he finally remembered where he had originally been, where his mind had decided to blackout on him, filling Yeosang with such intense pain. The pain was completely gone now, his head feeling good beside the point of his hair sticking disgustingly to his head but something felt off. Yeosang wasn’t sure what it was, how this feeling was so deeply rooted in his chest but it was there and he felt pure horror at finding out what it was. He still breathed heavy and for the first time he notices how his whole body was shaking, his legs so visibly trembling under the cover Yeosang feared the foreign feeling in his body. Feared how his hands desperately grasped for the bedsheets, practically anything that could give him some ground, easing his shaking. Yeosang feared how his throat felt blocked, only whimpers able to get past his lips. He felt weak.

Minute after minute he sat there, focused on everything and nothing at the same time, breath finally falling into a steady rhythm again but he was unable to pay any attention to it. His brain felt empty. Yeosang knew there was something important, something he should have never forgotten but he had and now it was haunting him, horror spreading in his heart. Somehow he felt empty but unable to understand where this sudden emptiness came from, had he just woken up after he had fallen unconscious do to the pain. How could he feel empty? Was the thing he forgot the reason why he felt like this? Would it ease his mind if he could remember? 

It was an undeniably strong tuck at his heart, a tuck which could eventually tell him what’s wrong and whatever it was, Yeosang feared it. So he stayed where he was, body heavy as stone. For how long Yeosang just plainly stared at his wall he didn’t know, it could have been minutes or hours but Yeosang paid no mind to it, thoughts occupied. The white color of the walls reflecting his mind – a blank white canvas without anything on it and Yeosang threatened to lose himself in it. The white nothingness trying to devour him with skin and bones. At the same time did the dark void never leave, clinging so desperately to him, wanting to tear him into nothingness. 

His dream completely forgotten at this point until his eyes casted sideways and something came into view: _San’s red rose._ The first present he had recieved. 

The black void of his mind suddenly exploded, over and over filled with various colors; buildings rose to the sky, the wind stronger and wilder, the sun merciless on his body. What once was numb was now filled with life again, as if the numbness had been brush away with ease. It was an overload of information, the white canvas splattered with paint and suddenly every drop and ever drag of the brush on it made sense, fitting perfectly where previously had been nothing while the void in his mind vanished. However, with everything falling in place, previously forgotten memories resurfaced.

Yeosang remembered his dream – the pain came back. 

Someone screamed like bloody murder and Yeosang wanted to see what was going on, who had screamed but found himself unable to even move a single muscle until his brain understood that he had screamed himself. The voice so deafening belonged to him. The pained cry was Yeosang’s. His head was pounding so hard, he felt tears running down his cheeks, broken sounds leaving his mouth with every new wave of pain surging through his brain. Yeosang trembled again, hands clawing the sheets beneath, fingers lost in finding anything to really hold onto. 

Never had he heard the door open nor seen someone rushing to his side, felt them first when a calming cold hand was placed against his burning forehead. The eyes he had unconsciously closed at the pain shoot open and Yeosang winced even more, the sudden movement worsening the pain behind his eyes, the light stabbing into his head. He felt tempted to close his eyes again, trying to cancel out everything which could potentially hurt him but stopped in his doing, his eyes widening.

San, his _San_ was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at him with a deeply worried expression. Yeosang had missed him. This was the love of his life, sitting in his room after he hadn’t seen him for three months, when he had spent each day yearning. Yeosang wanted to leap forward, wrap the younger in his arms and press sweet kisses all over his love’s face, finally feeling soft skin against his own, hear him laugh, see the stars erupt in his eyes. But he couldn’t, his body not moving an inch. 

As if San had been the cure to his pain it faded as fast as it had made itself known, only glimmering like a light in the back of his head, barely noticeable but flickering ever so slightly. Their eyes met and Yeosang felt how something else ached in pain; his heart. His love was watching him with hurt eyes, most likely hurting over the fact that he could do nothing against Yeosang’s initial pain and just watch him. 

“ _San_?” 

“Hey.”

Yeosang felt how his hands where shaky again, this time not out of pain but out of relieve. With a small smile and a hand gesture he made the younger come closer, hesitantly and gentle falling in his open arms. San’s touch alone was good enough to ease the pain, their body’s so close to each other made Yeosang sigh in relieve. This was what he had so dearly missed. 

But with remembering his dream had something else come along, something which made him tighten his arms around the younger, pressing his head into the other’s soft hair. He had dreamed about another lover; just not another, _Yunho_. His fantasy, the illusion of his mind had a name, a face, even personality traits. It had felt so real, so painfully real. Yeosang wanted to burry himself out of shame, wanted to erase every single memory he had of the dream. He had a lover, a man he would never trade for anyone else but yet here he was, vividly dreaming about another man who obviously had been his lover as well. _Another Lover_. 

With San in his arms he felt so incredible guilty, not understanding how his mind had come up with such a realistic dream – why his subconsciousness had created such an illusion. Not once had he been unhappy with their relationship, no, it was the complete opposite. Yeosang felt content and good with the way their relationship was progressing, San being everything he could have ever wanted. His subconsciousness apparently doubting him. How could he possibly feel the need for another lover? No, Yeosang had never needed another, only wanted San. 

The guilt only intensified when he felt how San rubbed small circles over his back, trying to ease him from his pain and Yeosang felt ashamed. He had always wanted the younger, so why would his subconsciousness want something else? It made no sense to him.

With dripping guilt he buries his face in San’s shoulder, inhaling his most favorite scent; no magnolia and no youth potion could compare because San’s scent was richer and warm, so pleasing it made him feel at home. Whenever he inhaled it, he thought he could hear the bird sing and the flowers sing lullabies out of the man’s garden, hear how the water splashes while telling a story and the grass laughing at you for every step you missed. Yeosang’s arms wrapped around the younger’s chest and San holding him in the same way was everything he could ever ask for, the calming words slipping out of San’s mouth just barely getting through to his brain. 

His heart and Soul are at peace while his mind plays against him. Yeosang should be overjoyed having his love with him after so long, after he had passed out to the pain only to wake up and have him come to him. 

“Sang?” 

San’s voice wasn’t more than a quiet whisper, barely more than just an exhale. But it was enough for Yeosang. Yes, he would be tripping with guilt for a while, feeling dread whenever he would meet the soft cushions of his bed, fearing what his subconsciousness would create without his knowledge but right now, he only needed San. Wanted San – and nothing more. 

“Yes.” Yeosang’s voice was hoarse, rough from all the deep sleep and the screaming he had done; he gladly ignored the way it cracked a little and San did too. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Weird.” Yeosang breathes into San’s neck, feeling how the other’s skin erupted in goosebumps. “I fear I cannot explain this feeling.” 

“That is alright, do not worry. I am just glad you are finally awake, you had me scared.” 

Now it was San’s voice which cracked and Yeosang heard the waver in it, noticed how strained it actually sounded. Reluctantly he detached himself slowly, lifting his head from the beautiful man’s shoulder and eyed him, looked at his face properly for the first time that day. Yeosang’s heart dropped. Even a blind man could see the distress and the pain so clearly in San’s face, the cheeks so flush, eyes puffed, lip bitten raw – the not yet dried tear streaks over his cheeks. 

He bit back a frustrated groan at himself, had he not promised to never hurt the younger but here he was, hurting him even more. More guilt, more need to get rid of the guilt.   
Yeosang lifted his hands from the back of the other to his cheeks, cupping them and tracing the cheeks with his thumbs, rubbing away the tear stains. He saw how San closed his eyes, leaning into his touch, Yeosang let him. 

“It was not my intention to worry you.” He says, gentle putting their foreheads together. “I am so sorry for hurting you.”

“Of course it was not your intention, who would purposely collapse to make their lover worried?” San’s voice gets drowned out by the tears spilling out of his eyes and Yeosang catches himself kissing them away, tear after tear, hearing how small hiccups leave his throat. _Lover_. The word alone made his heart tingle, swell – he was so proud of the development of their relationship. “You would never.”

“I would never, that is right. Still, I am sorry for worrying you, beautiful.” 

Yeosang presses a gentle kiss on San’s lips and for a moment they stay like this, content bathing in each other’s presence but the kiss came with their overflowing feelings and Yeosang feared he could overstep his boundaries. With a last little peck he broke the kiss and started pressing a openmouthed kiss against San’s temple, mumbling his apology again. San’s tears stopped but the wet gloss in his eyes spoke no lie. 

“How long did I sleep?” 

“Three days since you were brought here.” The younger hiccups, using his hands to rub his eyes. “Longer because you already fell unconscious in the horse carriage. Hwanwoong’s magic prevented worse from happening but Youngjo-“

“He was worried, I assume.”

“Yeosang, you nearly scared him to death. You are like his son to him, what do you expect?” 

“Honestly? Him scolding me as soon as I wake up.” 

They both laugh at the image of a dead worried Youngjo scolding the living out of Yeosang, it would be hilarious. However, San was right. Of course his mentor and closest person next to San would be worried about him, he can’t even imagine how it had looked like when he was brought back to the mansion – unconscious. Yeosang would probably be as equally scared if someone brought Youngjo home and he would find him in such a state. 

“I know this sounds greedy.” San says, pecking his lips. “But can we not tell them just now? Can I have you a little longer just for myself?” 

“Of course, love.” With a small smile he leans back, falling back onto his bed and pulling the younger along with him, San sprawled over his chest with a yelp. For a moment they just laid there, Yeosang’s chest rising while San pressed his face into it, clawing Yeosang’s shirt. 

“Oh.” Yeosang breaths out and tries to get up again but San is dead weight on him. “San, my clothes are full of sweat, let me change.”

“No. You said I can have you, so you will not go anywhere. If I plan of spending my life with you, then I need to be okay with seeing you sweaty.” 

“Sounds very suggestive.” 

“Yeosang!” 

San hits his chest, whining, Yeosang can only laugh at his lover’s distress. Yeosang laughs and San buries his head into his chest, most likely to embarrassed to face Yeosang after what he just implied. Not that Yeosang wouldn’t do it with San but the younger seemed to not be ready yet, he wouldn’t push it.

“Sorry beautiful, did this make you uncomfortable?” 

Yeosang’s hand traced slowly over San’s back, playing with the material underneath his fingertips ever so lightly. Felt San’s muscular back, the way his body goes up and down with every inhale and Yeosang wishes such moments more. He gets a quiet no as an answer and Yeosang is glad, hums in delight. 

“When I was asleep for three days, how long have you been here then?” He asks. 

“Since the day Hwanwoong brought you here. Someone from the mansion, I think her name was Seunghee, came to get me immediately. She told me you were brought here unconscious and that Youngjo send her to get me. Do you even know how startled I was? How worried!” 

“Seunghee? She is one of our maids, the head maid to be precise. It does not surprise me that Youngjo send her as she is the closest of the maids to me.”

“Closest?” San questions, pushing himself up on Yeosang’s chest, in his eyes a sharp glance. 

“Are you jealous, beautiful?” Yeosang laughs, enjoying how the other pouts.

“No!” 

“San, she is like my mother or an older sister. I have very different feelings for you two.” 

“You better have different feelings.” 

San fell back onto his chest, cuddling so closely Yeosang was sure he could hear his heartbeat beneath his ear, hear how fast it beats only for San. He felt how some warmth crept up on his cheeks but ignored it, because what was there to embarrass him? Nothing, San would see all of his sides eventually. 

“I do. My love is only for _you_.” 

Yeosang tensed, a sudden wave of nausea overrunning him. Something from his own statement made him sick in the stomach, as if he had just lied, which he most defiantly did not. In his mind two sides were battling, the one saying he lied and the other saying he did not while he could only sit and watch, his mind torn into two. Maybe it was his dream still lingering in the back of his mind but for sure it was something he couldn’t put a finger one, eating him away. 

There was no initial pain this time, San noticed his change nonetheless because in a matter of seconds the younger sat up, his worried expression back. 

“You are in pain again are you not? Wait, I go get Youngjo! Or Hwanwoong! Or both!” 

With that San hurries down from his bed, sending one last glance back at him before he is out of the door, almost running down the hallway. Maybe he will get scolded for running by the maids, Yeosang thought loudly, the words slipping out of his mouth and he could imagine San’s bet red face at it. However, the way his love had immediately noticed and reacted to his change made his heart sped up again because he felt so incredible loved by such a small gesture. San could literally do anything and Yeosang’s heart would leap in joy. How wrapped around the finger he was made Yeosang laugh a little, the only way he could bury the negative feeling inside of him. 

How long he ended up laying down on his bed he didn’t know but at some point he finally stood up, his bare feet meeting the cold wooden ground. It took him two tries before he could stand up without falling forwards or backwards, the cold immediately creeping into his body making him shiver at the touch. Despite the cold he felt, Yeosang slowly made his way over to his wardrobe, finally freeing himself from the sweaty clothes, dropping them on the next chair for the maids to wash them. Yeosang fetched some new clothes, shuffling into simple pants and butting it up, before he reaches for a white shirt. He sighs when he feels the cool fabric covering his still hot skin and he stands still for a moment. The material was so light against his skin but it felt like Yeosang cooled down just at contact. 

Yeosang in the movement to button up his shirt, however he didn’t get far when his door suddenly busted open and Yeosang turned around alarmingly fast, making his head spin. For a moment he had to put his hand on his head to make the spinning stop, trying to concentrate back on his door and stop his hard beating heart after the surprise. All he could hear was an audible gasp before he finally could open his eyes again and for the second time Yeosang jumped in surprise, eyes widening. 

“ _Hwanwoong_?!” He shrieks a little, seeing how the older had casted his eyes away, a light red hue on his cheeks.

“Dear god Yeosang! Button up your shirt, will you?!” The older hissed and Yeosang felt the heat on his cheeks returning, hurriedly buttoning his shirt up after he had been interrupted while trying to do so.

“What do you think I was _doing_?” Yeosang hissed a little, the tips of his ears turning red. Not once had anyone beside the maids and Youngjo ever seen him exposed, knowing that Hwanwoong was now part of the equation made him want to disappear into the ground, swallowing him whole. “Why are you busting in my room anyway? You could have nocked!” 

“Just because Youngjo is not here does not mean you should talk to me like this, I am still the older one. Show some respect you brat!” 

“I show you respect when you finally tell me why you came here.” 

Yeosang huffed, looking down at his now button upped shirt, trying to erase the wrinkles with his hands while he mumbled a low ‘I am done’ to indicate to the other that he could turn to him again. 

“I came here to see how you are doing obviously.” Hwanwoong huffed and Yeosang looked up. The blush had faded on the blondes face and was now replaced by a worried look. With a little hesitation Hwanwoong stepped away from the door, walking over to him and when the older stood right in front of him, he was once more reminded how small Hwanwoong actually was. Not that he would ever say that again – the one time had been enough to traumatize him, he wouldn’t risk his life again. 

Without any delay did Hwanwoong reach up with his hand and put it on his forehead, feeling his temperature; Yeosang felt like a child again. Another thing he would never tell Hwanwoong was that he saw the couple as his second parents, Youngjo and Hwanwoong had taught him so much, cared so overprotectively over him the last years that he had started to like the thought of them being like parents to him. If he would ever tell Hwanwoong, Yeosang knew there were just two possibilities how the outcome would be: either Hwanwoong would tease him about it for forever and all eternity or he would cry at the sudden affection Yeosang showed to him, maybe even hug Yeosang. He wasn’t ready to find out just yet. Hwanwoong never showed his affection to him directly. 

“Your fever went down.”

“I am fine, your magic did wonders.” Yeosang mumbled when Hwanwoong retreated his hand. “I was a little sweaty – which by the way was the reason I was changing my clothes before you barged in – but I feel fine.” 

He saw how Hwanwoong flinched at his words, looking at him and their eyes met. Something shot through Hwanwoong’s eyes and Yeosang wasn’t able to grasp it, to understand what it had meant. But it had to be important, something crucial because Hwanwoong was not a person you could easily see their fears or emotions pass through the eyes. No, the older had his emotions under control; what he displayed in his facial expression and what shine through his eyes where completely different things. 

Hwanwoong seemed torn, as if he was comparing two possible outcomes with each other. Apparently he had decided for one when he looked away shortly only to look back, clear worry in his eyes. Neither of them commented on it.

“It was not my magic that helped you, it was Youngjo’s.” 

“Your magic made it possible for me to come here after I fell unconscious, of course did your magic help me. Let me thank you at least, will you.” 

Yeosang huffed, slightly amused. 

“Whatever.” Hwanwoong said and gestured his words away. “Say Yeosang, did you dream while you fell unconscious?” 

Now that had Yeosang’s interest. Why would Hwanwoong ask such a question – such a specific question. In all honesty Yeosang had asked himself already how it had been possible for him to dream, when in fact his brain had shut him out after the pain had become too great to bear. At the same time he remembered, Hwanwoong had asked him a question before he had collapsed. Was the older onto something?

“A dream?” Yeosang looked at the other with an eyebrow raised, seeing how the smaller avoided his eyes. “Yes, I dreamed. Is that of importance?” 

“No, of course not. It was only my assumption after you said you had sweat a lot while dreaming.” 

Yeosang didn’t believe him, not a single word coming out of Hwanwoong’s voice sounded like it was sincere – the blond was lying to him. 

But for what reason?

“Hwanwoong-“ 

Before he could ask more, get behind the reason of lying, the door busted open once again and Yeosang wasn’t able to react fast enough to shield himself. With a loud whine he was thrown backwards, his hasty steps almost making him fall but strong arms held him upright, and soon he was engulfed in a tight hug. A distinctive scent surrounded him and Yeosang melted into the other arms immediately, letting his head disappear in the crock of the other’s neck. Let himself fall against the firm body. _Youngjo_. It felt like Yeosang came finally home, was finally where he really belonged. After months of being away and his sudden incident, with which he had worried everyone, it felt immensely good to be back into his arms. Back to the people missing him dearly. 

Youngjo rubbed his back a few times and squeezed him tightly before he released him a little, stepping away from Yeosang just slightly, still hovering in Yeosang’s personal space. His mentor’s face displayed what he had already expected: hurt and worry. He hadn’t seen the other looking so torn in a long time – the last time had been when Yeosang had accidently brewed the wrong potion and it exploded in his hand. To say Youngjo had been worried sick back then would be an understatement. Yeosang had been banned from their room for an entire week and was only allowed to brew again a month after the incident. It was a miracle he hadn’t lost his hand back then. 

“Do you know how worried sick I was?” The older questioned, his eyes shimmering in the light and Yeosang hoped he wouldn’t start crying, because if Youngjo cried Yeosang would eventually end up crying too. Youngjo’s words sounded strained. “You cannot do this to me, I am an old man.” 

“Tell that your appearance mister ‘I look perfectly young even after decades’.” Yeosang retorted back, seeing how a small smile tugged at the edges of Youngjo’s lips. His voice getting quiet. “Sorry, I never intended to scare you.” 

“You better not do that again, you hear me.” 

Youngjo nocks his head against Yeosang’s, presses their foreheads together. Yeosang closes his eyes and breaths out, gulping down the feeling of guilt once again, knowing he had scared his mentor, Hwanwoong and his lover all in one go. 

“What happened to me?” Yeosang questions silently, detaching himself from the older, sees over the raven’s shoulder San watching him, a small smile on his lips. Without thinking twice he gestures San to come over and the younger complies, Youngjo stepping away to make way. Yeosang catches the small exchange between Youngjo and Hwanwoong when San steps up and hugs him but he doesn’t comment on it, just wonders what they might think. 

“We are not sure.” Youngjo apologizes, looking away from them. Yeosang sees the hurt in his expression even without directly seeing it – he knew that Youngjo felt responsible for something he had no control over. “Physically there was nothing wrong with you. Your pulse was fine, you had a little fever running but I assume this was triggered by the pain you felt. When I controlled your body for any substance which could have damaged you, there was none. Nothing life threatening inside out. No wounds, no blood, not even a scratch. I-“ Youngjo’s words stuck inside his throat, he sees how the older swallows hard. “I do not like to admit this but – I am at the limit of my knowledge. I tested everything, you where healthy and fine. I failed, I am terribly sorry.” 

Yeosang felt how San tightened his arm around him making him look at the younger shortly before casting his eyes back at his mentor, the man who cared so much for him. He wanted to tell the older that he had no need to be sorry about his condition, about what happened but when Yeosang opened his mouth, every sound possibly coming out of it ending in silence. 

Hwanwoong had stepped up to his lover and laid a hand on the tall man’s back, whispering something Yeosang wasn’t able to catch, however, he saw how Youngjo stiffed for a swift moment before he regained his posture. The elder threw a glance over his shoulder, a heavy sigh leaving his mouth. Something was clearly conflicting inside of the raven’s mind. 

A gentle, almost sweet smile hushed over Hwanwoong’s features and Yeosang suddenly felt the heat rise in his body, the blonde’s eyes trained on them. Unconsciously he pulled San closer, felt the other’s hand gripping his shirt and Yeosang felt utterly exposed right at that moment. Both Youngjo nor Hwanwoong had ever seen him this close with San before but now both of them glanced at them and Yeosang felt his stomach twist in embarrassment. The people he saw as his second parents seeing him with the love of his life, the man he devoted himself to – Yeosang had always pictured the moment to be more special, arranged even, maybe when he would tell them that he wanted to marry the younger but not like this. 

“We need to keep an eye on you, Yeosang.” Youngjo said, obviously troubled at his own words. “But I cannot stay at your side the whole time you will rest.” 

“Wait a moment.” Yeosang almost hissed, his eyes narrowing. “ _The whole time_? How long do you plan on caging me up in my room?” 

“At least a week.” 

“A week?!” Yeosang shouted in surprise, feeling how his grip around San tightened and he sent a silent sorry in his mind to the younger, hoping he wasn’t hurting him. “You are insane.” 

“Insane? Yeosang, for the sake of everyone, will you please listen to me? We have no idea what had caused your sudden collapse nor do we know if it occurs again. As the lead sorcerer of this mansion I prescribe you rest for at least a week. No buts, you stay.” 

He knew the elder was right, knew that he had a good reason to bind him to his room because he had _collapsed_ without a clear _reason_. Yet here he was, thinking that he had just reunited with the two people he cherished the most but would be unable to see them and Yeosang hated it. God, he had wanted to spend as much time with San as possible, Youngjo apparently saw it different. 

“Youngjo.” Hwanwoong’s voice was a little stern and Yeosang watched in amusement how the raven haired looked at his lover in shook, clearly displeased. 

“No.” Youngjo’s voice was firm. For a moment the two eldest had a stare down, a silent conversation passing through them and both San and Yeosang could only watch. 

“Yes. You are unreasonable.” 

“I am not _unreasonable_. You cannot expect me to say yes to this.” 

Youngjo crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at his lover. Yeosang casted his eyes side ways for a second, a questioning gaze directed at San but the brown haired just looked as puzzled as he was.

“What are you two arguing about?” San asked. 

“Someone has to watch over Yeosang and both me and Youngjo have duties in this mansion, we cannot stick to his side.” Hwanwoong answered honestly, even at the warning gaze from the elder. “So the best solution would be to invite you, San, to stay over-“

“He will not-“

“Shut your mouth, Youngjo.” Hwanwoong growled with such fierceness everyone in the room held their breaths, taken back by a display of such emotions. “You might mime the nice dad who wants to scare away the love interest but you will not. It has nothing to do with us what the two will do behind closed doors and you also have no right to separate them. Let them be together you idiot. Do you not see that San is the best option in this matter?” The blond argued, a finger pressing to the other’s chest. “They have not seen each other in three months and the first thing San sees and hears about is that the man he loves collapsed, is unconscious and no one knows why. Would you let someone separate you from me, if I had been the one to collapse? You surely would not.” 

The silence that follows Hwanwoong’s words is thick, Yeosang threatened to suffocate. He had never wanted to be the subject of the elder’s fight, had always hoped he would never cause disruption in their relationship – he just did. Youngjo’s conflicted mind was so vividly clear on his face, Yeosang feared the older might break, shaking under his lover’s intense gaze and harsh words. 

In the end it was San who broke the silence, his voice firm. 

“I will not leave Yeosang, Ravn.” Yeosang almost wanted to snort at the use of Youngjo’s other name but he held it in, instead leaned into San’s touch more. “If it makes you feel better, I can give you regular updates about Yeosang’s health or you come around whenever you have time but I will not leave his side.” 

A warm feeling spread inside of Yeosang and he felt so incredible proud how far San had come, how much he had grown over the month’s of them knowing each other – now openly and proudly he could say that Yeosang mattered to him so much. He wanted to kiss him and show him how much he had missed him, the two pairs of eyes watching them made Yeosang reconsider his want. In no way would he kiss San in front of the two. 

“I-“ Youngjo looked first at San, then at Yeosang. Yeosang held his gaze. His mentor’s face flinched at him looking back, casting his eyes before a sigh left his mouth, rubbing the back of his head absent mindedly. “I guess I have lost this argument, have I?” 

“Of course you did.” Hwanwoong said back, the bite in his words no longer there. 

“Okay, you can stay San.” Youngjo glanced back at them, his face now twisted with something else Yeosang wasn’t quiet able to understand. “No funny business you hear me? You are too young! To innocent!” 

“For fucks sake, Youngjo!” 

San and Yeosang laughed about Youngjo’s fatherly worries later when they had laid down again, stomachs filled with delicious food and San changed into some of Yeosang’s clothes. A deadly sight, Yeosang had to mentally slap himself to get certain images out of his head, the younger blissfully unaware of his inner struggle. The way the brown hair is nestled under his chin, the other’s ear pressed onto his chest, Yeosang found himself loving it. He inhaled the sweet scent when he pressed a soft kiss against San’s head, loving the way San drew slow circles on his stomach. Despite everything that had happened the last hours – days – he felt content, happy even. His lover allowed to stay at his side, even if Youngjo demanded from them to not deepen their relationship just yet and Yeosang knew it was the elder’s way of caring for him. San would treat him right, Youngjo knew it but the elder was probably still scared of someone breaking Yeosang’s heart. 

Yeosang should never tell Youngjo that he would readily get his heart broken by San if it meant his lover would be happy. 

It wasn’t until the last ray of sun vanished behind his window that San fell asleep on his chest, arms tightly wrapped around Yeosang’s chest, legs tangled together. Yeosang was happy, his own grasp just tightening slightly at the months he had spend away from his love, away from the beautiful man he had wanted so much. 

But with the quiet breath of the younger and the night falling over them, other thoughts creeped back up, invading his peaceful mind. And suddenly he was afraid of falling asleep. Afraid of his own mind, his own subconsciousness. What would happen if he dream _that_ again? Dream something so disloyal and questionable while his lover, the man he loved from the bottom his heart, was pressed against his body and completely unaware of his struggle? He feared the face he would make in the morning, feared if San might catch up – feared if San would question his love. 

Yeosang prayed the dream had been a one time thing, nothing to be repeated, nothing to bring up again. Wished for the dreams he had with San, the shared adventures and conversations the had held in Yeosang dreams. The fleeting touches and kisses, the need they had. Everything was better than going back, thinking back to _this_ specific dream. Other’s would have forgotten most details by now but not Yeosang; not his memory. It provided him with a picture perfect copy. Sometimes he hated his own ability to remember so well, wished he could simply forget so he could clear the guilt, the heavy burden on his chest. 

For a long time Yeosang laid on his bed, bodies pressed together in an attempted to melt into the other even more, listening to San’s even breathing and occasionally shifting on top of him. It must have been close to midnight when his eyelids fluttered close, his mind screaming at him to stay awake but his exhausted body winning the fight eventually, pulling him back into a deep slumber. 

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Yeosang?” 

It was a quiet whisper but Yeosang heard it nonetheless, his head whipping back. He groaned because the movement had been to abrupt but he complied, turning his head a lot gentler the second time. The other stood tall in between the doorframe, eyes incredible heavy with a sad, almost regretful gaze. Just a moment later Yeosang stood up, walking closer to the other, a bad feeling welling up inside of his body. _Something_ had happened. _Something_ would happen.

“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked back, letting his body fall against the tall man in front of him. 

“We are going to war.” The other gulped, their eyes locked. Yeosang’s heart dropped. 

Going to war? That couldn’t be true, there was no way. 

“You must be joking.” His voice was not even close to sound like he was laughing at the other’s joke, his lover not even flinching at the fear in Yeosang’s voice. It was true. “No, it can’t be true. Tell me you’re lying, _Yunho_!” 

“Have I ever lied to you, Sang?” Yunho embraced him, rocking them back and forth. 

“But- But!” Hot tears welled up in his eyes, drenching Yunho’s shirt. Neither minded. “It means you have to go _out_ there! You- you can’t-“ 

“I have to.” The older reasoned but Yeosang didn’t want to listen, pushing him away. “Yeosang- please, don’t make this harder than it already is!” 

“You will go out there and die! Don’t even try to promise me that you will come back safely because we both know that is unlikely!” Yeosang shouted, his heart aching in pain, knowing this could be the very last conversation he would have with Yunho. “You are a doctor, Yunho. They always try to kill _these_ first!” Tears flooded his eyes, making it hard to see. Yeosang pressed both hands over his eyes, wanting to wake up from a reality he had never wanted to acknowledge. “How do you expect me to be calm about this?! Did you think I would be overjoyed? Did you think I would support the idea of you going to _war_?!” 

“No! No, of course not!” The older tried to reason, getting closer to him but Yeosang stepped back, the wall soon hitting his back. Yunho caged him against the wall. “Do you think _I'm_ happy with this development? I’m not! Just the thought of leaving you alone in such a severe situation makes me sick to the core but I have no right to decline. And you have no right to be egoistic. I’m a doctor Yeosang, my job is it to help the wounded and I will not give this up; give them up.” 

And Yeosang knew – knew he was unreasonable angry at the man he loved but he couldn’t help it. He would lose Yunho, Yeosang knew it. There was no way the enemy would let a doctor this great live to see the next dawn. Yeosang would never see him again after Yunho would step through the door. The death sentence was already spoken. The truth was sickening, Yeosang wanted to vomit. He wanted to be egoistic, to lock his love up and safe him from such destiny but Yunho was right, he had no right to decide such things. The image of crying children, hurting people, corpses – all of these flashed through his mind and Yeosang understood he had to let go, had to let the other do his job and safe the ones which could be saved. Let Yunho aid the country and the people he had sworn to help. 

Yeosang stood emotionless in the hallway when Yunho’s time was up, the military already outside to pick him up. Yunho’s eyes where sad, conflicted but filled with love and adoration at the same time. Yeosang couldn’t move, just let himself be hugged a last time, kissed a last time, his face getting cupped one last time. He would lose everything. 

He would lose Yunho once and for all. 

Yunho looked back at him one last time before he stepped through the door. The elder’s fate was sealed. His back slowly disappearing in the distance and only when he was unable to hear any sound coming from the outside he broke down, crying and screaming, cursing the world around him, cursing everyone who would be at fault for him losing the only thing that had ever grounded him. Yunho’s unconditional love. Lost. 

Yeosang’s fear had been justified. A letter found its way to him, a month after the war had officially been declared. The empty hollowness inside of him had known as soon as he had opened the letter. No tears, no thoughts. Yunho had died at the hands of another man.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Eyes slowly opening, he didn’t jerk up this time but laid still, stiff, each muscle frozen in place. A warm body was still pressed against his body, soft breathes breaking the silence, darkness swallowing them. He had to take a few deep breathes, his heart stammering so loudly in his chest, Yeosang feared San could awake from it. Could rise and ask what happened. 

Because of the sick feeling inside of him, he had to stifle a broken whimper, sucking it down; it shouldn’t, couldn’t escape. He had dreamed again. Yunho. The man had been there again. And then he had been gone. Yeosang feared _him_ and the _dream_. 

Yeosang’s body was shaking, his palms sweaty but still resting against San. Feeling how the younger breathed out against his chest, fingers still curled in Yeosang’s shirt. He drew the other closer with the sudden fear of – of what? Losing. _Not another_. He had to bite his lips to not make a sound but somehow San stirred in his sleep, shifting and mumbling something until the younger pushed himself up, his eyes searching for Yeosang’s in the dark. Yeosang wanted to look away and forget; at the same time he wanted to shout and let everything he felt out. How had San noticed his distress? 

“Why are you _crying_ , love?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was kinda slow? I'm sorry, it wasn't able to put everything I wanted in this chapter because I didn't want to make you wait even more. 
> 
> As always find me on Twitter and CC under @SolreyItIs


	3. A single dancer in a dream meant for two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back?
> 
> I'm sorry for disappearing for a month, it was a hard one. My mind was in a weird headspace lately, I've been falling more often in my depression these days, that's why I took a break from this story. (I also forced myself to write something for another fandom until valentine's day and this stressed me to no end...) I will answer to the comments as soon as I'm done uploading this.
> 
> I'm very thankful for the views, bookmarks, kudos and comments! <3
> 
> This is mostly a filler(?) chapter, a lot of Dialoge which is important for the story and some… interesting facts. ;) Maybe it clears some ideas up or sparks more. I will beta read this later, I'm just using my good mood right now to actually upload this.
> 
> As always find me on Twitter under @SolreyItIs.

_Crying?_

Just then Yeosang noticed why he wasn’t able to see clearly, why his vision seemed blur and faded. Hot tears pooled in his eyes, running down his cheeks, wetting the pillow beneath. He had started to cry. 

“Yeosang?” 

San’s voice was horse, barely above a whisper but filled with worry. Up until this point Yeosang had never cried in front of the other – had never felt the need to; San had cried once in his arms, seeking comfort in his embrace. So he felt how his vision blurred even more when San moved over him, putting their foreheads together while his hands cradled his face, whipping away the endless flow of tears. His body a comfortable but burning weight on him. 

For what exactly was he crying? Was it that the person in his dream, Yunho, had died? Or was it the feeling of potentially losing San, the man he held so dearly? The fear, after such dream, to actually lose the one of most importance? 

“Hey, what is wrong? What happened? Is it the pain-?” 

Their eyes met but Yeosang can’t see him clearly, the eyes which brought him so much comfort nothing but a blur, a broken hiccup leaving his mouth. His arms circle the body on top of him and pulled him into a hug, nuzzling the other’s hair to hide the sounds leaving his mouth. 

“Noth-nothing-“ Yeosang’s words where swallowed by the brown hair. 

“How can be this-“ San’s grip around him tightened, “nothing? I know you well enough to know that you are not a man to shed tears so easily. Sang, please tell me what happened.” 

Yeosang didn’t want to, not now nor ever. How could he possibly explain something he had no words for, not able to grasp why his body was actually shaking so unbearably much. He felt how San’s one hand travelled down, staying on top of his shoulder, squeezing it in a warm manner. 

“Yeosang, I beg you, talk with me. My love, seeing you so shaken hurts me. Even if my offer of help might not be of much use, at least tell me what happened.” 

San’s voice was so sweet against his chest, the hot breath fanning over it. Yeosang knew it would end bad if he told the other what happened – that he had dreamed of the same man two times in a row, for a reason unknown. Maybe he would dream about him a third time. He trusted San, trusted in his love to him more as in his own sanity but Yeosang knew he would hurt him nonetheless.

“It was a nightmare, beautiful, nothing more.” 

“Ah, a nightly terror? Maybe your mind is still exhausted.” 

The younger hums, nuzzling into Yeosang’s chest deeper, pulling him infinitely closer. 

“If it is too much to talk about right now, then sleep again. I am here, I will not go away so please, rest a little more, the night is still on the move.” 

Yeosang only nodded in agreement, finally loosening his grip on his beloved. Said one scooted a little away, turning around and lying on his side, throwing him a glance over the shoulder. He understood, turning sideways himself and pulling the younger flush against his chest, hand tightly wrapped over San’s chest. Once again he buried his face in the other’s hair, inhaling the scent of home. 

And he tried, he really did but the sleep just rarely overcame him, more than light sleep just didn’t seem possible. The fear of falling asleep to such a dream to high for Yeosang to eventually find a good night’s rest. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Exhausted.” Yeosang replied, looking outside of the window. The sun had risen just barely an hour ago, the time Yeosang had spent sleeping not being enough to make his eyes able to focus, eyesight blurring whenever he moved his head. 

“You barely slept, did you not?” 

Yeosang wanted to turn his head but he refrained to do it, just listening to Youngjo’s concerned voice. San had informed his mentor first thing when the younger had woken up and seen, that Yeosang had been already awake. The eldest had come to his room without delay and Yeosang should be thankful, he really should be, but right now he craved nothing more than blissful silence. 

“Yeosang.” Youngjo’s voice sounded firm, not at all conflicted anymore, knowing he had become one of his mentor’s patients now. “I asked you something.”

He rolled his eyes at the male’s words. The simple move made his spinning mind scream out in pain and he had to support his head, hands pressing against the throbbing pain. 

In a matter of seconds it was over, the pain suddenly flowing out of his body as if it had never been there in the first place. Youngjo’s magic impressed him every time. Two hands peeled of his own before being placed in the exact same spot, thumbing over the skin and messaging his head. Even though he knew Youngjo meant it well, he would have preferred if the elder would just let him suffer silently without babying him. Whatever this was or would become, it was Yeosang’s problem, he could hopefully handle it on his own. 

“I am fine.” He gritted out, trying to escape the touch but Youngjo was faster, held him in place. 

“You are clearly not. Your beloved told me you had a nightmare. What happened in this said nightmare that got you so worked up, you might not even slept half an hour?” 

“Nothing worth of discussing.” Yeosang felt how his cheeks heated up a little at his mentor mentioning San as his beloved but didn’t commented on it. “Really, I can deal with it.”

“Oh, I can see that.” Youngjo laughs without any happiness behind it, just as unimpressed he is with Yeosang statement like he is with himself. Yeosang didn’t believe himself much. “What happened to the boy who told me everything? Do I need to give you a truth portion so you spill your worries? Don’t try me Yeosang.” 

“Thank you very much but do not use an truth potion on me, you would miss use it afterwards.”

“I would not.” Youngjo sounded offended – he actually wasn’t. “Do not believe you can change the subject so easily.”

“If I tell you, can you keep it a secret from San? At least for now?” 

Yeosang knew it was bad hiding something like this from his beloved but the whole aspect of dreaming about another man, someone who had been close to himself in these dreams, freaked him out nonetheless. Worrying himself was already enough, who knows what his mentor would think about him when he actually spilled it? Would he be disappointed?

“Of course I can, we can work it out first before you tell him. However, do not hesitate to tell him. The short time I have gotten to know San now, I now he is a good soul, he could never hold a serious grudge against you for as simple as having a dream which worked you up. He knows the subconsciousness produces them and you cannot prevent them.”

“I hope so.” Was all Yeosang muttered before Youngjo’s hands finally left his head, the warmth slowly fading into the colder air of the room. He didn’t lift his head, eyes focused on the blanket instead, counting down from ten to collect his thoughts. Where did he start? Would Yeosang need to tell him everything? He worried the consequences of spilling it all, even though Yeosang knew his mentor wouldn’t really judge him. Instead the elder would be at his side and help him figuring it out. 

“The day I fell unconsciousness or in between those three days, I dreamed.” Yeosang begins slowly, as if tasting the words for poisoning. “That first dreamed it- it was directly connected to the one I had tonight.” 

His shoulders fell a little, the weight on them feeling even heavier now after he said it out loud because now Yeosang had to face it, face the possible meaning of them. 

“Connected dreams? That is rare.” Youngjo mumbles, the bed dipping a little when the elder sat down, his hand now staying in a calming manner on his leg. “It is believed every person dreams at night or when they fall asleep, some remember their dreams while others completely forget them. It is believed that every person can dream many different dreams at night because your subconsciousness is still working when you close your eyes. If you are able to remember them so vividly, it must mean they had some great impact on you. Even though the human memory is by far not perfect, your ability to remember had always been different. If you choose to remember, it is better to talk about it.” 

The elder concludes, patting his leg above the blanket. Yeosang’s eyes where focused on the other’s hand. 

“I am not someone who can interpret dreams and tell you what you can take out of it, but I can tell you what I think about it and tell you what I might see in it. How about it?”

“I- Yes, I think that is for the best.” Yeosang mumbles, and starts shaking a little at the mere thought of his dream. He still felt so guilty. “Did you- did you ever dreamed about… another lover while you had Hwanwoong? Not explicitly having the need but- but one appeared in your dream?” 

Silence. That much Yeosang had anticipated. Because who would ask such a thing openly? Who would imply they had dreamed about someone else when they had someone they loved and cherished dearly? Yeosang was not a cheater, no one who needed another person to satisfy his needs. No, San was enough to fill up his very being; his mind, his soul, even his thoughts where completely captivated by the younger, beautiful man. 

So when he heard the black haired man exhale, he knew Youngjo was deeply thinking about his words. Wherever it was good or not, the elder was not laughing or stating his disappointment just yet. Still the shame Yeosang felt with asking such a question made him heat up, his hair thankfully falling in front of his eyes so he was shielded from the other’s searching gaze. 

“Another lover?” It was a question on which the elder wanted no answer to, Yeosang knew as much but nodded still, knowing his mentor was watching him. “No wonder you were so worked up about it, who would not be?” 

This wasn’t exactly the answer Yeosang had been searching for but the elder wasn’t laughing, which had to bee a good sign. Well, the topic _was_ serious after all. The sleep deprivation really didn’t made it easy for Yeosang to focus. God, what was he even talking about? Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut.

“There was a time once, countless years ago, where he had a really hurtful fight.” He heard how Youngjo took a deep breath before a long, heavy sigh left his lips. Yeosang could imagine how heated a fight between the two could become. “I am not proud of the words which had slipped my mouth and I suspect Hwanwoong is the same; we both had been hurting a lot. Till today I am not sure why but it was a time where Hwanwoong had been barely with me or even remotely been close to the mansion. I knew he was not having an affair, Woong would never but it still irked me the wrong way and when I asked, he told me I had nothing to worry about. Of course I was worried. We ended up fighting.” 

The elder remained silent, most likely remembering about their past and Yeosang wasn’t sure if he should break the heavy silence or remain silent. Just when he wanted to say something, Youngjo spoke up again.

“While we had fought, I did have a dream but it was not me who had another lover, it had been Hwanwoong. I guess it was the fear of him getting bored with me.” 

“You still remember it?” Yeosang’s voice was quiet because he had never thought his mentor would talk about his relationship so openly with him. 

“Yes, just vague but I do. I love Hwanwoong, have for a long time but I am just human, like everyone else is too. I have fears and worries too. Just the thought of him getting bored of me hurts, knowing he could possibly do better, have someone who could love him better than I do.” 

That hurts because Yeosang understood this pain. Had he not thought about this a lot too while he had been away, struggled with acknowledging that San wanted to wait for his return. Yeosang had felt bad, knowing he couldn’t be there for the one he loved, knowing San could do so much better. It may be egoistic, but he hoped he would always be enough for San, not giving the younger a reason to leave. 

“I- I dreamed about another man.” Yeosang admits, body curling into itself even more. “It felt so- so incredible realistic.” 

“Realistic? In what way?” 

Without thinking about it he pulled his legs closer to his body, pressing them against his chest, burring his face in them. Youngjo had let him, giving him some distance thankfully. 

“I have no idea how I could possibly describe this. He felt so real. I touched him and if I think back at it, he felt warm and firm under my fingers? As if he had never been a dream to begin with.” He knew his voice was shaking but how could he could he not, because the whole thing scared him. The guilt he felt bringing back the sick feeling in his stomach. “Not only this – he even had a name, a face, a profession. It was not just a blurry face, a nameless body. Youngjo, what is this?” 

For a moment the silence came back, thick and heavy. 

“Are you sure about this? Did he really had all this?” 

“Yes. Both times I knew who he was, I knew which relationship I had with him.” 

“This is… odd.” Youngjo concluded, voice sounding irritated. “Normally dreams are constructed mysteries, things usually do not add up in them. Most of all, they are often not clear in their intention, easily misleading and chaotic. Did you know the man?” 

“No, I have never seen him before, that is why I do not understand this. Why did my mind come up with a whole new existence?” 

Yeosang whined, hopelessly lost in his thoughts. He wanted to erase both dreams from his memory, make the being named _Yunho_ finally disappear but he couldn’t. Not once had his memory failed him and it wouldn’t miraculously start now. 

“Truly odd. Maybe you had seen this man once, overheard a conversation over him and your memory just brought it up now?” 

It wasn’t making it any better when Yeosang heard the doubt in Youngjo’s voice, the uncertainty. His mentor had always been his support, the one who lead him through many difficult times but hearing him so unsure about something made Yeosang’s stomach twist painfully. Even his mentor was incapable of knowing everything and Yeosang had to face this – whatever this was, Youngjo couldn’t help him with it. Great minds had a limit too. 

“It might have triggered your subconsciousness, the underlying feeling you had about San I mean. You probably worried about him a lot when you where away. The work at the castle might have been more exhausting than you had noticed, both your mind and your body gave up at the same time and your subconsciousness created a dream to protect you. That’s at least what I think.” 

And Yeosang was thankful for his mentor’s view on the subject because he knew his own conclusion could have been entirely different. A lot darker, filled to the brim with guilt. Not really helping him with his mind. 

“I leave you now, I will not tell San about this as promised but think about the possibility of telling him yourself. Keeping this in might be not be the best option in this.” 

True to his words, Youngjo left him shortly after a finally check up where he concluded that Yeosang was overall doing fine. The silence which came back as soon as the door fell into it’s place was weirdly comforting, the only thing irritating where his loud thoughts. No matter how hard he tried to distract himself, he found himself unable to think about something else. Wondered why his memory liked to torture him so much. 

In all the years he had lived not once had he actually wanted to trade his perfect memory for anything else but slowly the _desire_ to do exactly that grew, knowing other people might would have forgotten it by now. Obviously Yeosang did not. 

Throughout the day he had no visitor, thankful for the actual alone time he was provided, even though his heart was definitely longing for San. The sun came up, stood high and slowly started to vanish again, painting the sky it the vibrant red, orange and purples he had come to love. With the light outside slowly fading so did the light inside of his room, no candle had been lit every since Youngjo had left the room. Yeosang hadn’t even bothered to stand up once, letting his body roll around in his sheets or draping the blanket over himself. 

He wondered about Youngjo’s words, about the possibility of him seeing _Yunho_ before, his mind just recreating the information he had once picked up. Was it true? Yeosang had tried to go through his seemingly endless memory, trying to find a day or a situation with _Yunho_ in it, but there was none – none he could remember of. So what else could it mean; what was his subconsciousness telling him? 

Yeosang tossed and turned, eyes glued to the ceiling at some point, his mind as blank. His mind wandered back to the moment of the dream where he had known the other had died and it made Yeosang feel strange, a feeling he couldn’t describe. It only intensified his longing for San, wanting to know what the younger had been up to, what he had done over the course of the day – hoping for a distraction he did not deserve. The haunting image of _Yunho’s back_ so vividly replaying in his mind, he wanted to scream again, to get all of these hurtful emotions out of his body. 

Just when the sun was finally setting, the few last rays of sun coming through, he heard a faint, almost hesitant knock on his door. Deciding he had bathed enough in self-pity, Yeosang called the person inside, hoping he looked somewhat decent. Which he did not, he knew. 

With hesitation, the door slowly opened, just enough for a person to stick the head inside. Yeosang cracked up a little at the demonstration and the other crocked an eyebrow at him. 

“Young Kang, have you been in bed all day? Look at you.” 

Obviously he got scolded by her, how could he not? Seunghee opened the door a little more and before Yeosang could say another thing, his eyes fell on someone behind her. Even after all the time Yeosang’s heart still skipped a beat whenever he saw his beloved, the ethereal being named Choi San. 

“I brought your dinner, you better eat something.” She walks over to his bed, putting the tray with a delicious looking meal down on his bedside table. Her black hair flipped dangerously when she whipped her head to look at Yeosang. “Do not believe I let you off the hook so easily just because you where a cute teenager once. Your beloved will watch over you while you eat and he is tasked to report to me if you do not eat enough.” 

She made a sign to indicate that she was watching Yeosang before she smiled a little, patting his disheveled hair. 

“I am glad you feel better. Rest well.” 

With these words she left, closing the door behind her. Now it was Yeosang alone with San again and somehow he was afraid to look at the younger, so he scooted over to the edge of his bed, sitting on it. His head was spinning a little at the sudden movement but he was immediately balanced by a hand on his shoulder, firmly holding him up. Yeosang’s eyes slowly casted sideways, taking in whom he loved so much. The younger caught his gaze but said nothing to it, just smiling a little. 

Yeosang was thankful San wasn’t asking him but instead nudged him to the tray, scooting it closer to Yeosang. Just the touch of San’s hand and his body pressing against his side seemed to let all the negative thoughts vanish. San was really the one for him and no one else, not even a dream could shake him. 

With San watching over him he eat all the delicious food Seunghee had brought him, just then noticing for the first time how hungry he had actually been. San had to remind him to eat slowly when he started to shove the food carelessly into his mouth, the younger giggling when he had to whip Yeosang’s mouth clean from all the food. Yeosang felt how his cheeks got warm at San cleaning his mouth but greatly ignored it. The fast beating of his heart trying to remind him that he had San for a lifetime, that he shouldn’t feel over the moon with every single thing the younger did. 

But how could he not? Had Yeosang not felt drawn to this very being from the beginning? His heart had decided to want San even before Yeosang had fully understood his own feelings, their hearts beating in the same rhythm even before they had first touched each other. Maybe their love had been destined. Their love fated to hold as long as Youngjo’s and Hwanwoong’s did. Hopefully. 

“You are such a messy eater.” San laughs and it sounds like angel’s trumpets in his ears. 

“I was starving.” Yeosang said back, pouting because he had always been a messy eater, why had his love to point it out _now?_

“You where starving because you looked yourself up in your room, love. This is entirely your own fault.” 

“So what if I did?” 

Yeosang turned his body a little to side, putting the fork down to poke San’s cheek, squishing it with his finger. The other hollowed his cheeks, looking like a pouting squirrel and Yeosang had to laugh when San’s eyes glistened in amusement. 

“Where were you the whole day, beautiful? I _strangely_ missed you.” 

“Strangely? You better miss me.” San slapped his knee jokingly, giving him an indifferent look. “I did not come back because Youngjo instructed me to give you some space to arrange your thoughts. Not that I fully supported the idea of leaving you alone the whole day but I am just a guest here, I should follow the rules, should I not?” 

“If anyone even just looks at you wrongly, you tell me.” Yeosang thinned his lips but resumed eating when San just crocked an eyebrow at his threat, both knowing very well that Yeosang couldn’t even hurt a fly if he wanted to. 

“Sweet of you, but no one is being mean to me, my love, everyone is very nice.” Yeosang let his eyes stay on the food but he felt the younger’s gaze on him. “I went out today, back home I mean. My grandmother sends best wishes for you and she hopes you recover soon, she missed you as much as I did. She is becoming older with each day, I am worried she loses her energy slowly.” 

Yeosang stopped himself from eating, looking at his lover who had his eyes casted against the wall. San’s grandmother was a lively woman but sadly she was old and Yeosang understood his fear – she is the only family San still has, if she where to die, all San had would be Yeosang. A scary thought. Even though the people of the town had gotten more friendly, none of them could be possibly as close like a family member. 

“How is she? I miss her.” 

“Holding up but I fear she has not much longer and I do not know why. Eventually she is just to old to keep living.” 

The sadness in his voice was crystal clear, his face however didn’t waver, keeping up the strong façade and Yeosang let him. San would come to lean on him if he needed to, until then he would be at his side and pray for his grandmother’s health. Hopefully she had some more years. 

“I see. Did anything else happened?” 

Yeosang resumed eating, being halfway through the food. It was quiet for a few moments and Yeosang only noticed then, that San was again looking at him. Their eyes met shortly but he casted away his eyes again, focusing on his food. He wanted neither San’s nor Seunghee’s or Youngjo’s wrath on him for not eating up. 

“When I came back, the maid from earlier ran into me and I talked with her for quite a while.” San chuckles and Yeosang can already imagine what Seunghee might tell San. “She had some very interesting stories to share. I cannot believe you accidently gave someone a love potion instead of a potion against a cold.” 

“Both where pink! I was young!” Yeosang whined when San laughed whole heartedly, the food he was eat almost falling out of his mouth which made San laugh even more.   
The rest of the time Yeosang spend eating was filled with stories San had heard from Seunghee, laughing at every other when Yeosang tried to defend himself on why he had done certain things when he had been younger. He wasn’t doing a very good job, San saying he would remember these precious stories to annoy him with it later in their lives again. Yeosang totally believed him. 

Only when he was finally finished and San was giving his okay on how his mouth looked like – yes, San said Yeosang would not get a kiss until he was squeaky clean – both called it a day. Yeosang had, for the first and only time that day, moved outside of his bed. San asked him if it was really okay for him to get up but Yeosang brushed him off, saying it was more than okay after he had spend lying bed all day. 

Still, he felt the heat rush to his face when he changed his clothes in front of his lover, feeling the other’s gaze lingering on his back while he did. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, it only made Yeosang shy. Both didn’t comment on it, the air between them loading with something he wasn’t able to pinpoint.

With a last deep inhale he turned around, seeing how San’s gaze flickered up to meet his eyes, in them mirroring the love he felt for the younger. San only smiled at him, gesturing him to come over with an outstretched hand. Yeosang didn’t need to think about it twice, taking the hand letting himself be pulled onto the bed, lying on San’s firm chest. A small smile hushed over San’s lips before he shifted them sideways, both lying on their sides while holding eye contact, the younger’s hand firmly holding onto Yeosang’s hip. 

“Yeosang, I love you, no matter what. Please remember this.” 

And if Yeosang hadn’t been head over heels before, he surely was now. Instead of trying to get an answer out of Yeosang, he had accepted that he would tell eventually when he was ready for it, not pushing Yeosang into a position he felt uncomfortable with. 

One of his hands placed itself on San’s cheek, feeling the warm skin against his palm which calmed him down. The feeling of safety within San’s close proximity was overwhelming but at the same time exactly what he was searching for. 

He kissed San, feeling those lips against his and a sigh left his mouth, a weight falling off of his shoulders. Right now nothing else mattered but the one he loved, the one who held on to him so tightly as if afraid he would lose Yeosang. Love whispered between them, hushed words exchanged under the darkness creeping over them, touches made to tighten the bond. 

Yeosang wouldn’t want it any other way, with no one else but San. Not when San looked at him with such adoration, his intense gazes trying to burn him alive even through the darkness. And they stayed like this for a while, just leisurely kissing under the safety of the covers until Yeosang’s mind finally concluded it couldn’t stay awake for much longer. Had he not slept well last night, was Yeosang hoping he could find rest this night. 

San noticed his change and pulled him close against his chest, letting Yeosang snuggle indefinitely closer until both where unsure where they started and ended. He was afraid to fall asleep again, afraid of seeing the face again, the man he had wished forget all day. It didn’t matter how much Yeosang wanted to escape sleep because it eventually crept over him, lulling him into the depths of his subconsciousness. 

Just when the moon almost stood high up, Yeosang’s breath finally evened out, his mind falling into the sweet sleep he had been deprived of with San pressing him close against him.


	4. Forgetting - the bliss of ignorance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Already chapter 4, who would have thought o.o 
> 
> We are officially now getting into the confusing story parts of my au, the plot kicks in now and I hope you guys are as excited as I am because I think none of you are yet aware what lies before us… :D I'm not a 100% satisfied with how this chapter ends but I don't want to throw everything at you at once.
> 
> If something is unclear please ask, don't hesitate to hit me up I'm not scary I swear. Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/SolreyItIs) and my [ CC](https://curiouscat.me/@SolreyItIs)
> 
> Also thank you for everyone who is interested in this story, it really really means a lot to me, this is a very important project for me. 
> 
> Tags of importance for this chapter: sexual tension(minor), anxiety, panic, hurt/comfort, mentions of violance… :)

Birds chirping, wind howling. He didn’t dream, or at least he didn’t remember it, which he was thankful for. Instead, when he opened his eyes, Yeosang was greeted with the most comforting sight he could wake up to. No horrid picture in front of his eyes, no trembling of his body or pain shaking his muscles – nothing but the breathe taking, beautiful man he called his lover. 

San was still sleeping peacefully with Yeosang draped over his body, legs tangled, his hears picking up the other’s heartbeat. It was strangely calming to hear it while seeing the other still sleeping soundly, the younger’s hair a little disheveled and cheeks squished because his face was turned sideways. A soft red hue over those pinchable because Yeosang was a warm body, crowding in on him. Yeosang loved San’s side profile, sharp and attractive - kissable. His one hand had been thrown over San’s chest and Yeosang took the opportunity to draw him in even closer, nuzzling the warm body underneath him, inhaling the sweet scent. If it was possible, Yeosang wanted to wake up everyday like this; being able to drown in the warmth of the other’s embrace, knowing indefinitely that this was his man. He knew that this is a foolish thought, nothing in life had ever been predictable but just for once Yeosang hoped he would be lucky enough to get just that.

A sigh left his mouth, falling even deeper into San to chase away such thoughts when he had only woken up; woken up after a successful night without having yet another dream terrifying him. 

Yeosang didn’t move for a while, staying content wrapped over his beloved who had yet still to wake up from his own slumber. He didn’t mind, his own consciousness slipping in and out of sleep for a while, his body still trying to get back all the resting time he had missed previously. That was until the body under him moved just in the slightest, a groan to be heard just shortly after. Yeosang readjusted his head and looked up at the other without leaving the firm chest beneath his cheek. 

“Morning.” He whispered, totally staring at the waking form of his lover who was barely awake yet. 

He got an affirmative grunt as an answer before San tried to roll over which Yeosang did not let happen, just making himself a little more heavier so San was actually pinned beneath his frame. This time he got a cute but sleepy whine and Yeosang had to use all of his willpower to not laugh at his lover’s distress. San was surely a cute man and Yeosang loved this side of him.

“Why-?” A raspy voice called out but Yeosang only hummed a little, his eyes still trained on the other. 

“I am comfortable, why change it.” Yeosang laughed when San finally pried his eyes open, eyelashes sticking together seemingly uncomfortable because the younger begins to rub them immediately. 

“If you say so.” San grunts, closing his eyes again, shielding them from the harsh light sipping through the window. “What time is it even?”

“How would I know?” Yeosang whispers back, drawing circles over the other’s chest, feeling the way San’s ribcage expanses and inflates under him. “Had no reason to get up.”

For a while they stayed like this, bodies pressed against each other while they shared gentle touches, nothing lingering for long and Yeosang was content this way. San’s hand was gentle patting his hair, Yeosang was enjoyed the way the younger was playing with the strands. However, both of them knew way to well they had to actually get up at some point, they couldn’t possibly lay around all day doing nothing. But it was for Yeosang to tear himself away, to move from his most favorite place. 

In the end it was not his decision to make. Someone knocked on his door – once, twice before the silence came back. Yeosang’s gaze shifted upwards meeting San’s now more awake looking eyes. If San always looked like this shortly after waking up, Yeosang would surely die the day he would be robbed of this view because it was just so addicting, so mesmerizing. 

Everyday he noticed more how much he loved the other. 

“I think you should let this person enter.” San hummed quietly, his hand gentle brushing Yeosang’s hair out of his face. Now that San had said it, he had no reason to argue it but deep down he wasn’t happy over the fact someone else would see San like this. 

“Come in.” 

Yeosang said it loud enough for the person outside of his door to hear him and even though he didn’t wanted to in the slightest, turned his head to the door to see whom he had the pleasure of meeting today. To his surprise, which was pretty unnecessary since who else could it have possibly been, Seunghee entered the room and closed the door after her. Her eyes met his, both staring at each other for a moment before she let out a sigh, putting her hands on her hips. 

Seunghee stood there in her maid uniform and tried to look – well, angry maybe? She wasn’t really successful in it. If all he had to hold back a laugh because he knew exactly what would come out of her mouth now. 

“Still in bed? I cannot believe this.” Her sigh sounded disappointed and from the reaction of the body underneath him, San seemed to think she meant what she said. 

“What time is it for you to come and gift us some of your precious time, my dear?” 

Yeosang chuckled when he felt San’s hand stilling for just a moment and he thought that maybe seeing his love jealous would be a sight to behold. 

“Way past after noon, young Kang. I do understand sleeping is important for the two of you but after yesterday I must insist for you to at least leave the bedding.”

“For what exact reason do I? I am grounded for a week, am I not? Why the rush.” 

“Neither you nor your beloved have eaten something until now.” Her voice sounds accusing for a moment before it evens out, her black hair swinging with her wild gestures. “You two should eat and get back into a regular schedule, master Ravn will not keep you up her for an eternity.” 

“He would if he could.” Yeosang countered but Seunghee’s raised eyebrow to shut down any other witty comment from him. “Alright, we come to the kitchen and eat something. Give us a few moments.” 

“Very well, I let the maids prepare a meal right away.” 

She says as if she had never talked on a personal level to him and leaves afterwards, the door falling into its lock. He sighs, the decision when they would get up taken from him. Yeosang had angered the maid once and never again, the wrath he would had to face beyond his pain tolerance. No, Yeosang wouldn’t anger her today.

“Let us get up then.” San murmured, patting his hair in a gentle manner to encourage him. 

“But I do enjoy this.” Yeosang nuzzled the warm, living chest under him. “I want to stay with you here.” 

“Suggesting your lover to stay in bed with you sounds very suggestive, even daring a little, I would say.” San says but pushes himself up nonetheless, Yeosang’s head falling into his lap with a grunt. “Still, I would share a bed with you as long as you desired, Yeosang, but she do have a fair point. Your body needs power after everything and food is just the most convenient way to recharge you, next to sleeping that is. If not for her, get up for me?” 

“I do not like the fact you start to team up with her against me.”

Yeosang whines, lifting his head from San’s lap and straightening his body, now on eyelevel with the younger again. The way San’s brown, disheveled hair seemed to glint in the sunlight and his still flushed cheeks from sleep, awoken a carnal desire in him to just lean forward and claim what’s his. He didn’t of course. Instead he leaned forward, kissing the younger on lips and San answered with the same eagerness. A constant push and pull, teeth teasingly biting on lips, tongues exploring the other’s mouth. It was to heated for a kiss after just having woken up but Yeosang couldn’t bring himself to care, was he just falling into his love more and more with each passing day. Yeosang had to stabilize himself on San’s knees when he felt himself becoming short of breath, detaching their lips from one another even if they ghosted close, breaths fanning over the other. 

They stole glances while catching their breaths, slowly putting space between them. Something inside of Yeosang wanted him to get closer to San again, to be as close as possible and savor every little thing given to him but Yeosang knew it better, reminded himself that Seunghee would walk in on them if they didn’t get going soon. Still, the way he felt drawn to San felt so inventible, as if it would happen whenever they were just mere centimeters away from each other and never leave afterwards; like the air constantly around them so was his desire to be close to San. To feel his touch, to hear his voice – as if Yeosang’s whole existence was drawn to San. 

Without much of a choice Yeosang left the bed, throwing a glance behind him to see if the younger was following his moves – which he did not, instead he was staring at him intently, something ablaze in his eyes Yeosang could not pinpoint. Yeosang had never seen such an expression on the younger before. It made his stomach twist in a way he had rarely experienced yet he found that he did like the feeling. It made his skin tingle and Yeosang subconsciously started to bite his bottom lip, feeling a shiver run down his spine. Gulping and trying to shove away the feeling he not yet wanted to chase, feelings which should kept away for some time longer, Yeosang turned around and made his way over to the wardrobe. Hoping San would look away.

He stood in front of it for a moment, wondering in what he should dress before choosing a simple short tunic and pulled of the shirt he had been sleeping in. However, he didn’t made it far before rough hands against his back made him halt, his skin suddenly burning up and his cheeks flushed. 

“What are you-?” 

Yeosang tried to turn around but had no chance to do so. San didn’t explain his doing but pressed his chest against Yeosang’s naked back, hands closing around his torso and leaving featherlike but burning touches behind. His body shuddered at the mere touch of his lover. Suddenly, Yeosang felt it and couldn’t stop the deep moan leaving his mouth. The younger had planted a kiss against his neck before nibbling on the same place, sucking on it not lightly but harsh, which left Yeosang breathless. He would have never guessed San would be the one starting to initiate such things, so he was surprised, not understanding why this was happening so suddenly. Wondered if the spark in the other’s eyes had been the desire San was now expressing. Teeth grazed his skin and if he wouldn’t have been blushing before, he would be surely now. 

And it felt good. The way San pressed them closer just a little more with each breath of Yeosang. The way his hands held him so firmly, almost afraid Yeosang could bail, not that he ever would. He wondered if this is the way one feels when touched by the one you loved because Yeosang’s body seemed to be ablaze by this simple demonstration of desire and he felt himself craving for more. It made him lean back into San’s firm chest, the younger’s warm breath tickling his skin.

“ _San-_ “

“Yeosa-“

“I know you two are up, come out soon or I come inside and drag you out.” Seunghee’s sharp voice echoed through the door and made both jolt in surprise. 

“We are coming.” Yeosang yelled back and he was sure the waver in his voice must have been crystal clear because he heard her laugh. He blushed even more. 

San slowly but surely gave him free, hands vanishing from around his torso and Yeosang turned around, instinctively searching for the other’s touch. His hands wanting to draw San back, to ask him to continue because he had been wanting the other since the very first day but the younger just gave him a small smile, one that seemed definitely pained, before he himself turned around and began to undress. Just then Yeosang saw the bag San had brought with him, which he had not seen before. His eyes seemed to be glued to San’s muscular back; the way his muscles flexed with each movement, how his tan got brighter at the parts which where usually covered. Yeosang felt the urge to go over and touch the skin, to feel the man’s skin against him but he had to refrain himself, knowing Seunghee would come in any time now. Understanding that San didn’t want to let him go but he had to – that they both seemed to search for more while being unable to get just that. 

But it made him wonder if his feelings and San’s feelings in this matter were similar, the very reason why San had touched him like this in the same place. If the way Yeosang wanted to feel the warm skin under his palms, leave teasing kisses all over the beautiful skin was what had motivated San to take the first step. If yes, Yeosang could understand why he did it. His skin still tingling and remembering the feeling of being touched, searching for more and Yeosang definitely wanted more. It had to wait, they had to wait. Even though Yeosang wanted to know why San had initiated it just now. They would get back to the topic eventually. 

The younger seemingly noticed his gaze when he was finished changing his clothes, giving him yet again a strained smile. And Yeosang wondered why it was so strained, wanted to ask him but San beat him to it.

“Not now, we need to go or else someone is going to be mad at us.” San tried to laugh, to show it was alright but Yeosang knew him way to well now to not notice. He refrained from answering, staying silent when San came over, pressing a delicate kiss against his lips. “Please.”

Yeosang didn’t know what San was pleading for but he gave in anyway, finally pulling the tunic over and changing the pants he had been wearing, San standing close to him but not close enough for his liking. Their eyes crossed and Yeosang knew, for now, there was no need to press the matter further.

The sun hung low on the firmament when San parted from him for now, saying he would come back when the moon began to rise. Yeosang had understood the need for the younger to travel home, had he not been as worried for the grandmother like San too. San still worrying for Yeosang too, it was probably stressful. The parting was still bittersweet, their lips had stayed close a fraction to long, the younger’s lips ghosting close. But he had eventually let him go, seeing the mop of brown hair slowly vanishing in the woods leading up to their mansion and only when he was fully gone, Yeosang had turned around and moved back inside. 

For a moment he had stood there in the entrance hall, doors closed behind his back, his heart still beating a beat to fast. A hand over his heart and he wondered, if he would ever get used to it, get used to the way San made him feel. Yeosang knew he had to get used to it but a part of him didn’t want to, finding a certain addiction to the feeling.

Still a sigh left his mouth when he finally moved and wondered what he could possibly do while he waited for his lover to come back – because training was still not allowed and he knew better than to go out and seek for Hwanwoong in the garden. The elder would be mad at him for moving around, he was sure of it. What was left to do? 

Yeosang didn’t know, feeling restless, so he walked down the seemingly endless hallways in search for something to do, greeted the people he encountered and held conversations, but nothing lasted long enough to keep his mind working. San would still be out for a few hours and Yeosang wasn’t up for annoying his mentor today – or his mentor him. His mind threatening to fall back into the worries he had the past few days for every passing minute he was unoccupied with something. Until he passed a certain door and an idea began to form inside of his head. The library. His feet moved on their own, the path burned into his memory. 

Yes, Yeosang had his own bookshelves filled with countless books but the library of the mansion was by far bigger than his. It had been a long time since he had been into it, his hand lying on the dark wooden door, feeling the engravings underneath. He loved how cold the wood was against his fingers and a smile hushed over his lips, thinking back to his early days where he had almost spend all his free time in the library. Until, of course, Youngjo had gotten him countless books for his private library. Maybe he should relieve the old times. 

With a hard push he opened the door, the weight of it giving away under his palm and gave way into the wide space behind. And it was like always. Man high bookshelf after bookshelf where lined up everywhere, portable ladders making it possible to reach even the highest books while tables gave enough room to sit down and research a certain topic if wanted. Wide, large windows flooded the room with daylight, candles placed efficiently for the time of dusk and night. One might think a library this big would threaten to swallow them under the scale of it all but Yeosang didn’t felt like it, had never felt like this. No, he loved books, loved the way they comforted him more than any human had ever – before San had stepped into his life. Getting buried in books seemed like a very pleasing thought to Yeosang. 

A few people where inside of the library, none of them greeted him, all to focused on their task and Yeosang couldn’t take it to heart, knowing he shouldn’t break their focus. The door fell shut behind him and after a second standing in silence, taking in the atmosphere of it all, he finally moved. To where, Yeosang didn’t know. For now it was enough to walk between the bookshelves and read their backs, fascinated on all the different topics. Until one in particular made him stop, his fingers ghosting over the old leather spine. 

“ _Humans against Vampires._ ” He whispered, wondering how long it had been since he had last heard about the war which was now thirty years ago. War. The mere thought about a war made him wince, sudden pain shooting back into his head as if it had never faded in the first place. “ _Why now-_?” 

He wondered but the pain subdued, leaving Yeosang to breath regularly again, as if it was knocking on a door but when you get there, the person is gone. With the pain came a weird feeling, once again one he couldn’t explain, not even fully grasp. But it was there, slowly eating him from inside out. Then it clicked, of course there was more to it. 

_Yunho_. The man in his dream had gone to war, his dream self had lost this man in a horrible war but could that have any connection? Had Yeosang eventually read about him before and his mind was merely playing with him? This would make sense, explaining how he could have possibly made up an entire existence without him realizing it. But he would remember reading about the war and Yeosang was positive he had never read about it, had only heard about it from people. The topic itself hadn’t been the most interesting one to him, his teachers had talked about it but never gone into detail, so Yeosang had never developed a real interest for the topic.

But then he wondered. Could his memory have failed him? Maybe it had failed him countless times before but he previously never noticed. A shiver ran down his spine at the image of him believing blind in his ability to remember but effectively lying to himself in the end. No, that couldn’t be right. Shouldn’t be right. His memory was one of a kind, there was no possibility that it failed him. Yeosang believed in his own abilities. 

Now he had a goal and Yeosang was determined to find out if this man had really existed. If what he had dreamed had made any sense. If Yunho was not a figment of his imagination. He hoped he was but there endlessly possibilities and Yeosang knew he had to question everything. 

Once again he was glad for his memory, had he known that just his one shelf held notes and books over the Vamp War – Yeosang still thought the name was ridiculous but sadly he couldn’t just erase a name completely and replace it – so his search for the right books was fairly short. Where it really the _only_ books? He had to believe in himself, to trust himself; if Yeosang would start to analyze his own behavior now, it would bring him no good. However, he had to take a step back to see all books at once, saw the ones which looked unused to the ones with broken spines, scrubbed off leather, tainted with ink or other substances. The most logical thing would be to start with the ones which looked used, the chance higher to find a book with useful information. If these turned out to be false leads he would dive deeper into the ones which had been of no interest for the other readers. 

So he started, taking book after book out of the shelves, lying them down on the table closest to him and began to organize them. Putting similar topics together, dividing them by the time they were referring to. Going through it chronological made the most sense to him. Yeosang picked up the first one, sitting down.

The first one must have been one of the first records about the war, it had not yet been given a name: a nameless war. The one who must have written it wasn’t only stating facts, there were many pages which got Yeosang sighting because of the unprofessionalism. Pure hatred against vampires was portrayed in it and he had to wonder if this had been the general view of the other races thirty years ago. Gruesome descriptions on how to finally and for all eternity get rid of a vampire making Yeosang imagine things he surely didn’t want to. The pure hatred dripping out of every line was sickening Yeosang to his core. With an annoyed groan he placed the book back on the table, closing it. He wouldn’t give a second glance inside, this was not the type of book he needed for his research. 

He went on, read book after book and learned a lot. Learned that the war was only held for two years before the vampires surrendered, merciless lost and the humans suddenly held immense power of them. Millions of people, both vampires and humans, died in the war, many only mere victims to the ones who fought against one another. It was surprising for Yeosang that just one reason was the factor humans had won the war: white magic. Yeosang’s kind had turned the tables for his race. The royal military force had apparently done experiments on Vampires even before the war had begun, capturing vampires of different ages and genders to test white magic on them. 

The peaceful coexistence both races had going on was broken when the vampires rioted against the vampire experiments. Yeosang wasn’t surprised the vampires weren’t up for forgetting their own kind and it also explained why the public had only been fed with poorly information. Humans had done violated another species in the worst possible way. He felt sick just imagining the now currently living vampires hiding from them. Yeosang had always known they existed but no teacher had ever told him where to find them and why they weren’t exactly visible in plain sight. 

He would definitely ask Youngjo about it later. 

There was another thing Yeosang learned: Vampires where true tacticians, sometimes steps ahead before the humans could even strike and Yeosang found that truly admirable. Vampires hit the most vital points of the human race – the young and the old. Draining the ones of their lifeforce human soldiers wanted to protect the most made them loose their cool, soldiers of lower rank easily irritated and blinded by rage. But there was another thing. 

They killed the ones who were responsible to nurse the wounded back. _The doctors_.

Bingo. This information was what he was searching for. For whatever reason his dream self had known this, in reality it had actually been the case. Doctors where killed early into the war. Yunho had been killed approximately a month into the war. This seemed to accurate to be true. How had his mind known? This shouldn’t be possible. But his finger was gliding over the withered page and the ink soaked into the paper and couldn’t believe what he was reading. 

‘Vampires often kidnapped the once of importance to the human public or the soldiers fighting for such. What exact methods where used to torture them is unknown however, after the vampires where done with their victims, these now deformed people where publicly displayed. A way to either discourage the soldiers or stir the feeling of losing the war within the citizens.’ 

“Tortures?” Yeosang breathed out in pure horror, couldn’t grasp these lines he was reading. A gruesome imagine playing in his mind. The pure, warm person he met shortly in his dream, covered all over in blood. Cuts adoring the handsome face he adored, the arms whom had lifted him with easy turned in such ways, it surely didn’t look normal. And suddenly everything felt way to real. The touches, the words, the whole experience. 

Yeosang felt sick. Curling into himself, head pressed against the sheets of paper, heart racing. He wanted to vomit. The sickening feeling coming back, hitting him full force. His body shaking. He had to press his arms around his own stomach to somehow ground himself, eyes closing at the sheer pain he was experiencing. At this point he felt sick, not only physically but also mentally, Yeosang hated that this seemed to be a recurring thing now. Could he not go back to the time where he had never felt such intense pain? 

The pain of seeing someone _you loved_ in such a horrible state but it didn’t felt like an imagine he had seen himself, rather like a moment shown to him. As if it wasn’t his own memory. No, it was a dream, it couldn’t even be a memory when it all had been in his head. 

But was it really? The way _Yunho_ had been to him, it was to real to be fake. It felt to real. Was it real? Yeosang’s mind was racing, jumping and tumbling over every possible outcome. Maybe _Yunho_ had been –

“Yeosang?” 

Yeosang’s head snapped up but he immediately held his own head, wincing at the pain which shot through his body at the rapid movement. A hand was placed on his back while another pulled his hand away, cupping his cheek afterwards.

“Yeosang!” 

The voice was stern, alarming and it ringed in his head so loudly, forcefully trying to gain attention. Yeosang really wanted to listen, to open his eyes and try to see who was talking to him but the pain made him unable to, pulsating so uncomfortably. And maybe it was fear too. The fear of something being real which shouldn’t be real, couldn’t be real but the possibility seemed to great to just dismiss it. Maybe it was a pure instinctive defensive mechanism that he shut everything but himself down, only focusing on the immense pain which shook his body greatly. Maybe it was the fear from what Yeosang had to face when he would look up and see the person in the eyes. Or the fear if it wasn’t real in the end and he would to have question his own mind, thoughts, memory – inventible ending in Yeosang doubting himself. This shouldn’t happen. 

Yeosang’s eyes stayed close even when he felt a warm power slowly creeping it’s way into his body because whatever had caused the pain was now rejecting the helping power. It felt like a dark, menacing power within him was fighting against the… _white_ magic. Youngjo. His mentor. When he was previously hurting, now Yeosang was burning, the power he normally felt so comfortable with was hurting him beyond anything he ever felt before. It felt wrong. Wrong in so many ways, Yeosang was afraid to lose his mind, everything was hurting him. 

His body was shaking even more, naturally tears started to stream down his face and falling in drops on his legs, body turned away from the table. Yeosang’s whole being felt like it had been lit on fire, merciless trying to reduce him to nothing but ashes and he was afraid of it. The pain had him in its grasp and no matter how much he tried to chase the comforting magic of his mentor, his body only seemed to repel it even more. Making him choose between two types of pain while his mind was barely able to coop, to comprehend what was going on. Yeosang felt so incredible sick. 

He felt helpless when Youngjo seemed to notice his body rejecting the well knowing magic, stopping the warm flow completely but the hand stayed and he slowly was pulled closer. Yeosang felt himself being pressed against something warm and he let it happen, totally ignoring anything else, trying to distract himself from the pain. How long he stayed like this Yeosang wasn’t sure but he didn’t fight it. 

Instead he felt like floating, as if everything which had pained him before made him empty now – as if he had cried out every possible emotion. It was all too much.  
Only a warm, gentle hand rubbing circles on his back brought his consciousness back and Yeosang sighs into the body pressed against his, let himself be taking care of because he surely couldn’t support himself anymore. But his eyelids felt heavy, dropping over and over again before they closed completely, the darkness swallowing him. Everything around him disappeared. 

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The wind was howling, skin erupting in goosebumps at every passing breezes, messing with his hair in the meantime. It was silent all around him. The sun had just peaked over the horizon, painting the landscapes in soft hues of red and orange, the sky following suite. It was a mesmerizing few but no matter how good it looked, it could never lift the dark veil which had begun to surround everything. 

It could never erase the menacing atmosphere, the dark future ahead of him. No, everything seemed so dull and gray, even the life around him unable to make it more bearable. He saw birds flying through the sky, white and browns against the blue and reds of the morning sky while wild life slowly arouse, rustling leaves and cracking branches. Everything was doing what they could do best: living. But could he?

With a future so dark, he felt himself spiral into thoughts of uneasiness and despair. His contradicting feelings trying to get a hold on him but he slipped away every time, unable to spare even a second to think about the inevitable. He had no choice but to comply – the decision hadn’t been his, but had it ever been? Not that he was aware of. Torn between wanting and fleeing, hoping and losing himself. Who was he, had he not lost himself on the way? 

A cold hand was placed on his waist and he didn’t acknowledge it, ignored the other hand resting on his shoulder all the same. In the end there was nothing he could do but let these hands roam his body to their liking while he watched the sun rising, the red hues disappearing before giving way for yet another day. He felt cold. He felt empty. Alone. Lonely but not lonely at the same time. Felt happy but hateful. Resenting. Despair. 

He was turned around gentle, to gentle, facing two pairs of piercing eyes watching every movement of his. Eyes so warm despite the cold of their bodies, gazes so gentle as if afraid he was about to break like a porcelain doll thrown to the ground by a child having a tantrum. His blood boiled, stomach twisting in distaste. Oh how he wanted to hate these eyes, the touches and feelings thrown at him; wanting to despise everything given to him. And he did. But not completely, not enough. Clearly not enough. 

Because some part of him could never hate them, no matter how hard he tried, how desperately he wanted to. He was imprisoned in the spider web they have spun around him, unable to move forward, incapable of freeing himself, left hanging with only himself at more than one occasion. But web had drained his will to fight, his mind surrendering to what was happening eventually. 

No matter how hard he tried, he would always get captured by them again, his world would always get colored in shades of grey because of them. It was bound to happen. He would let it happen because no matter how hard he tried, he was captivated by them. 

_By the orange and blue sparks starring right into his soul._

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Yeosang’s subconsciousness slowly drifted into a state of being awake again, the darkness slowly fading when sunlight met his eyelids. He had to press them together when he felt an unpleasant throbbing at the back of his head and whined when he subconsciously grasped for it, the movement straining his already exhausted muscles. 

A voice was whispering softly against his ear, just barely loud enough for his ears to pick up but it was there and it comforted him indescribable. He searched for the voice, the touch he received. It made him feel at ease. And for a while that was all he could hold onto – his mind to exhausted to understand, to shaken from the previous pain he had gotten inflicted with. _Pain?_

“Where?” He whispered into the material his face was pressed into. Yeosang’s voice was shaking, laced with a pain strained tone. 

“The library.” The voice whispered back. 

His mind was racing but slowly his brain was able to understand again, to recognize which he had failed for the past time. His mentor. Youngjo had found him earlier when he had felt such intense pain, had tried to ease the way his body had reacted. 

“What happened-?”

“You where in pain.” Something pressed against his head and it took a moment for his exhausted brain to understand that Youngjo had kissed him. “I tried to help you but I could not. You collapsed shortly after I arrived. I had been searching for you for a check up.” 

That was true, Yeosang remembered to have blacked out while being held but he also remembered the pain, the way his body had rejected the help it was given. He would never willingly reject Youngjo. 

“How are you feeling?” Youngjo’s voice was soft, concerned and Yeosang felt himself relax into the touch, nuzzling his mentor’s chest. 

“Empty.” Was all he could say because that’s all he could feel. He was just so exhausted.

“You have seemed to be in great pain, I am not surprised that you feel some sort of emptiness right now. My magic caused you even more distress, did it not?” 

“Yeah it’s- it felt like your magic was battling the pain inside of me and only- only worsened it in the end.” 

Yeosang sighs, his hands trying wandering around until they where able to grasp something, Youngjo’s arms being the ones where he was finally able to find support. He didn’t want to get babied, even though he enjoyed the closeness after just waking up but he couldn’t stay like this. Yeosang had dreamed again. Whatever it was, it came and went away again quickly, not much happening. But he remembered. 

“ _Orange and blue_.” He whispered when he stood up while shaking, his legs almost giving up under his weight but Youngjo held him up with ease, steading him when he was about to fall. Yeosang muttered a small thanks but avoided to look at the elder, eyes focusing on the way Youngjo’s chest was rising and falling. 

“Orange and blue? What do you mean?” 

Of course Youngjo had heard him, how could he not. 

“I- I dreamed again.” Yeosang muttered while he focused on steading his breath, feeling how his energy slowly came back to him. He felt how Youngjo shared some of his energy with him, their magic buzzing while mixing and Yeosang was glad his body wasn’t reacting him yet again. 

“About the man?”

“No, not about Yunho, even though he was the reason why I was here.” Yeosang tries to nod in the direction of the scattered books but he figured Youngjo probably had looked at them while he had been unconscious. 

“Then tell me first what you dreamed this time while it is still a fresh memory.” 

“I am not sure how to describe it, it was rather short this time. It felt short. I saw a dawn, a beautiful landscape and there where two- two entities, rather blurred.” Yeosang tried to collect his thoughts, to make his head calm down and think rationally about it. “They were like-like dark mist? If this makes sense. The feeling of hatred was so overwhelming Youngjo, I hated whatever these beings where. But I also loved them. I felt so twisted.” 

He sounded desperate and he was desperate because he was unsure about his own words, If they where right or wrong – if Yeosang made sense. All of this confused him, did it felt like another being had overtaken him, engulfed him with feelings which had never been his before but he had to experience them nonetheless. 

“Their eyes. Orange and Blue. They stared at me.” 

Now Youngjo gasped, making Yeosang look at him for the first time. His mentor looked like he was in deep thoughts before he tried to smile reassuring at him, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“You even remember the color of their eyes? That is impressive Yeosang.” Youngjo said, guiding Yeosang back down onto a chair and he let it happen, understanding that he should take it slow. 

“Did you feel like you knew them? The way you knew Yunho?” 

“I- I think so? No, I am sure I knew them. I was scared but the way one is scared of something they had never met before. It was more of a feeling of being scared because you know it way to much.”

“Interesting.” 

Youngjo looked at him shortly before prying himself out of Yeosang’s grasp, slowly rounding the table and looking at the books he had put there. His mentor seemed deep in thoughts, analyzing and Yeosang took the break, the silence between them to close his eyes. The energy Youngjo had given him had chased away the numb feeling inside of his body but he still felt a little sluggish, mind racing with way to much at the same time. 

Because this dream had felt so real yet again, even if Yunho hadn’t been a part of it. His dreams had never been so realistic before and it scared him. However, he wasn’t alone with it anymore. Not when Yeosang saw how Youngjo turned pages, scanning them quickly before moving on. No, Youngjo had only the best in mind for Yeosang and he was sure after Youngjo had seen him in pain yet again, the elder would try anything to make it stop. That’s just how affectionate and loving the elder was. 

“Why did you look up the vamp war, Yeosang? I think we never discussed this topic before.” 

Yeosang looked over to his mentor, seeing how the elder had picked up one book but was starring at him instead. It was now or never, he thought. 

“The man inside of my dreams, Yunho, he had died in a war. I had sent him away in my dream, knowing very well he would die out there.” He gestured to the book inside of Youngjo’s hand. “I came here to not lock myself up in my room all day. It was pure coincidence that I stumbled upon a book about the vamp war. However, it intrigued me so I thought I look the topic up. A war is a war and I tried to ease my mind, trying to make myself believe I must have read about it before, that this had been the reason why I dreamed about Yunho.” 

“But it had a different affect.” 

“Yes. Yunho- he- he was a doctor. I read about the war since I never studied it before. Yunho died in the war, so early on and I read that the vampires killed these first. The similarities are too close to be-“

“Just your imagination?”

“Yeah.” 

The silence between them felt thick and for a moment Yeosang was afraid Youngjo could accuse him of lying, of trying to make him believe something which wasn’t real. But Yeosang knew his feelings, knew what he had felt even if it was confusing and hurting him – exhausting him. However, the look in Youngjo’s eyes told him everything he needed to know. He was believing him. 

“When did you notice the pain coming back? Was there something that might have triggered it?” 

Was there? Yes, there was.

“The moment I thought about the possibility of-“ Yeosang gulped, closing his eyes just in case, “-the possibility of my dream not being a dream but real. That, I am not sure how it could be but that Yunho had been real, a real existing person I might have met before. The pain came then, when I almost acknowledged it.”

Youngjo hummed, putting the book down again before he came back around the table, squatting down in front if Yeosang while taking his hands in his. 

“I hope this does not trigger yet another episode of pain but I am slowly believing as well that we should see the possibility of your dreams not being dreams in the end. Can you listen to my deduction and try not to freak out? Can you do that?” 

Yeosang looked at him, saw the nervousness in Youngjo’s eyes and felt like freaking out. Gulping he nodded because Youngjo is his mentor and he had by far more knowledge than he did, if Youngjo had an idea it must have some basis. With a little hesitation he squeezed Youngjo’s hands and tried to smile at the elder. 

“Okay, stay calm and just listen. It is only a guess and nothing is proven yet.” Youngjo took a deep breath. “My guess on what is happening with you is that you might remember your past life’s. That your soul, for whatever reason we do not know just yet, has resurfaced this deep buried memories from your previous times on this earth-“

“My- my what?” Yeosang chocked on air, his eyes blown wide. “Previous lifetimes’?” 

“It happened before, people remembering how they had lived before. I never heard about someone who remembered through dreams but look at you Yeosang, your ability to remember had always been exceptional so I would not be surprised if these memories resurfaced when your mind is currently not occupied – meaning when you sleep-“

“But why now?” He asks breathless because no, that couldn’t be true. Past life’s? His past life’s? But that would mean- Yunho was real. Meaning he really died. Meaning that they-

“Yeosang, hey Yeosang!” Youngjo called, his mind snapping back to the man still kneeling in front of him. “Focus on me and only on me, do not lose yourself now. This is nothing bad, do you understand? If it is real that is. We do not know if Yunho or these two entities have been real, it was just a suggestion of my side. This just means you have been living more than one life.”

He couldn’t listen to Youngjo anymore. His ears where ringing, his mind running in circles because it seemed to unreal. But he remembered the touches he had shared with Yunho, how real Yeosang had found the whole dream, how he craving the other while they had been together and how numb his death had made him. Recalled the cold hands on his back and the piercing eyes, how the wind had felt on his skin. 

And for once he wished Youngjo would have never opened his mouth, would have kept his guess for himself. Just the thought of his mentor being right made him sick yet again. He should be fascinated by the possibility of his mind remembering, should show his usual interest in learning new things but he couldn’t. Yeosang was _afraid_. 

“But why now?”


	5. Whispering in the depths of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello~
> 
> I took a while, I don't have internet currently, that I can post this is pure luck because I made some arrangement. Just this today huhu :( I try to update my other stuff in the next couple of days, I hope I get my internet back in the next 2-3 weeks. Will update the tags too.
> 
> Anyways we are going down now, the story takes up the speed. And things will happen. This chapter is almost 9k, so there is a lot of information in it. If something is unclear, please don't hesitate to hit me up and ask. :) Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/SolreyItIs) and my [ CC](https://curiouscat.me/@SolreyItIs)
> 
> Important tags for this chapter: non-con/rape (implied. not explicit), mentions of blood and gore, character death (minor or major? you see :) )

Both of them had no answer to it, the silence between them thickening. What was happening with him? Yeosang felt lost, wandering around aimlessly without a goal, without a destination. 

Youngjo stared at him, searching for something in his face and Yeosang didn’t understand what it was. Droplets fell onto his legs and just then he felt the tears running down his cheeks. Trying to whip them away he pressed the heels of his hands onto his eyes but they never stopped and he wondered how he could still cry, after all the tears he had shed lately. How many tears Yeosang had left. Youngjo tried to shush him, told him reassuring words but Yeosang shut down completely. His surroundings became nothing but a blur, everything seemed to be there but not a single thing was focused, sharp. Out of his reach. As if all lines where disorientated by water like colors on a paper. 

There was no start and no ending, just a further going. Deeper and deeper into the dark rabbit hole. Chasing a form which had never existed, running away from feelings he never wanted. It tore him apart inside out – his mind shut off. It was all too much, his body exhausted from all the torture Yeosang had gone through the past days. 

Thick tears run down his face and he couldn’t stop the hiccups from leaving his mouth. His body was aching. His mind was screaming. He craved the silence he always had but never appreciated before, wished Yeosang was finally alone again, being able to wash away the feelings he had never wanted nor needed in his life. 

Until he felt another hand on his shoulder, moving in a circular motion and Yeosang tensed, feeling immediately that it didn’t belong to his mentor, the feeling so unknown. If it was another person from inside of the library he would die in embarrassment, that couldn’t be true, it had to be someone he _knew_ -

“Take deep breaths, Yeosang.” 

Hwanwoong, it was Hwanwoong. Yeosang let out an startled breath, which ended up in him hiccupping even more because his tears got into his mouth. It was warm, the way the elder’s hand was so warm against his back and it somehow grounded him. Had he ever stood on an enemy ground with the other, the older surely didn’t dislike him anymore and it made Yeosang only curl even more into the touch, knowing it wasn’t forced but truly meant. The reassuring pressure against his shoulder wasn’t meaningless.

They were there for a while, Yeosang sitting and crying, while Youngjo mumbled soothing words and Hwanwoong pressed himself into Yeosang’s shaking form. They were here for him, he realized. Whatever he was going through, he wouldn’t have to do it alone. But it terrified him. The mere thought of everything being real. No, he didn’t want to remember, wanted to banish the very thought of Yunho into none existence. 

Yunho could not be real.

However, if it was real, that would mean Yeosang had lived at least once before but what was he supposed to do with this new found information? Should he be overjoyed? He couldn’t be. Should he fall into despair? No, Yeosang refused to – tried to not let it overwhelm him. Telling himself to look at it rationally like he had done so many times before. There had to be a reasonable answer to his problem, there wasn’t a single question without a proper answer. 

It overwhelmed him, just thinking was hurting him. He craved silence. 

He heard how Youngjo quietly informed Hwanwoong about their new found information, telling him his speculation and why Yeosang had ended up like this. Yeosang didn’t comment on it. Understood that they needed more than one view on the whole thing. Maybe Hwanwoong had already had his suspicion. Only when he felt no tear leaving his eyes anymore did he lift his head, seeing how a worried Youngjo was watching him. He looked to the side, searching for Hwanwoong and said one understood his intention, bending himself so he was inside of Yeosang’s view.

Hwanwoong was smiling slightly but it seemed strained. It didn’t reach his eyes and never his heart. Oh how he hated to see their expressions, how much it must hurt them to see Yeosang in pain over something none of them had an explanation for. 

“I surely hope these are only dreams,” Hwanwoong muttered, patting his head, “ because if not, seeing you in pain worries me.”

Youngjo hummed in agreement and Yeosang could feel the truth in the other’s words. Never had he wanted to worry anyone but with recent developments Yeosang couldn’t stop doing so. And hurt himself too. If he just knew how to stop these weird dreams. No matter if what he dreamed was real or not, Yeosang wanted them gone completely. 

“If these dreams are true-“ He chokes out, his voice so raw, “it would mean they _killed_ Yunho. I- this cannot be real. This man was- was an angel, how could they?” Yeosang whined, trying to curl into himself. “He was sweet and caring, understanding. I do not want to believe a human as good as him was killed just because of his profession. Because of a war.” 

The hand on his back came to an abrupt halt and Yeosang feared what Hwanwoong might say but he resumed his doing, just slower this time. 

“Angels do not exist anymore Yeosang and if they did, even Angels are not pure hearted. No one is. Every soldier knows what they get themselves into when they go to war – if he was real or not, he held his head high for his land and was killed for it. That is a circle of life.”

“Hwanwoong!” Youngjo gasped in shock and even Yeosang was surprised at the bluntness of said words. 

“It is the truth, Youngjo. It may hurt him but we need to be truthful with him. Whatever is happening with him right now, sparing him from the truth might worsen the situation. He needs to find out if what he sees is true or not, how else could he live? If he never tried to find out, it would mean he would have to endure these sudden attacks for the rest of his live.” Hwanwoong took a deep breath. “You see yourself how Yeosang reacts to these dreams. He is in pain. How many more do you want to let him go through before we search for an answer?”

Hwanwoong’s words where as sharp as ice but he spoke the truth. Yeosang had to face it even if he feared it. Even if the picture his mind showed him how Yunho could have died made him sick and fearful, running away from it was not an option if he ever wanted to solve this problem. If it was in the past, it was something he couldn’t change anymore – Yeosang can’t change the past. Yunho would be in inventible dead.

How long would his body hold on? Endure these painful dreams time after time, stronger and then weaker again, making him shiver with feelings unknown. Yeosang whished he could name them. 

“So you mean-“ Yeosang looked at the other, “-I was alive once before? The possibility is there? Then tell me, has one of you an idea why I experience this now? Why it hurts so much?”

“Remember your dreams, Yeosang. I asked you before, did I not?” Hwanwoong asked. “People always remember differently. You remember these dreams and your current body might resent your past memories.”

That made sense. If his old memories and his current once wanted to survive in the same body, they had to ultimately fight for the space inside of him. Yeosang could remember everything asked him but a whole other life? Or even more than one? That might even be for Yeosang’s great memory too much. If his body was resenting the old memories, it would explain why it always hurts him to remember the past, even if it where only fragments, pieces of a whole picture scattered across the ground and his mind piking only certain ones up.

His mind was spinning, Yeosang had to support his head with his hand. It would explain why he was so drastically exhausted every time. Why he felt the need to be close to San whenever he came out of one of those, searching for the one who grounded him in this life.

“As to know why now, that is something we have to find out Yeosang.”

“How? I searched in these books and I think- the word war triggered it.”

“War?” Hwanwoong’s voice sounded sceptic but understanding. “Could be possible, what do you say?” 

Youngjo hummed, eyes casted to the ground as if he was thinking about something. Yeosang knew that pose to well. Whenever Youngjo sat there and let his eyes vanish behind his eyes, it meant he didn’t want to be seen. Maybe he was afraid Yeosang could panic when he saw his eyes, or think he had a solution when he had none. Both of them still knew so much Yeosang had yet to learn, he was thankful for every idea they would bring up.

“It happens that souls are reincarnated, it was more common in the old days. Souls either came back when they still had unfinished business with the living or neither the gods nor the devils wanted them, so they were stuck in a circle of trying.” Youngjo said quietly, more to himself than to them, it sounded like he tried to remember an information he had heard many years before.

“Circle of trying?” Yeosang questioned. Trying and trying again. That sounded horrifying. Was he really stuck in an endless circle until he had done the right thing? Had he done anything in this life that justified him to finally break the circle?

“Gods send them back when they had not repaid a sin they had done. Most angels disliked such souls and the gods liked to please their cute angels, the beautiful pure souls of heaven. They only want absolute pure souls with them.” Hwanwoong explained, squeezing his shoulder. “Devils despise pureness, they are trouble seekers and usually like to play with others, but if a soul wasn’t corrupted enough, they weren’t allowed back. So most souls wander between a space of earth and holy ground, some get reincarnated and they usually do not remember their past lives.” 

Yeosang nodded, trying to understand. So the possibilities where fifty fifty on this one. He could either been to faithful or to evil. Just the thought made him shake his head. That where his past life’s mistakes, not his. Not the current Yeosang’s one. 

“With both sides vanishing from people’s every day life, the topic about reincarnation disappeared too. Most people only believe in it nowadays through their belief to their gods, the reincarnation itself is a mystery to them. Humans tend to forget that there are indeed more life forms than their own, selfish kind.” 

He had to process this and seemingly Youngjo did too because his mentor had his brows knitted, looking at his lover past Yeosang. An unsettling uneasiness mirrored in them. It looked like Youngjo couldn’t see his own mirror image anymore, so cracked where his eyes. Something changed. Youngjo understood something which went over Yeosang’s head. It was significant, Yeosang shouldn’t have missed it but he did.

“Hwanwoong.” 

“Yes?” 

“ _How_ do you know this much about this topic?” 

Youngjo’s words had no real bite behind them but they felt like venom to Yeosang’s ears because _right_ , how could Hwanwoong now? Have information about something not even one of the highest ranked sorcerers of the country had such deep knowledge of? Information he would most likely never find in a single book. How could he know-

“ _Who_ told you?”

Hwanwoong’s hand disappeared and with that he felt the elder retreating, slowly backing away. The buzzing of Hwanwoong’s magic was so clear, Yeosang felt how his own responded to it. Pulsating beneath his skin, goosebumps all over. An indescribable feeling flowing through his veins. He had to gulp.

Turning around he saw how Hwanwoong had distanced himself, not far, just a few steps but the elder suddenly seemed so far away, so unreachable. Yeosang’s breath hitched. It wasn’t the slumped over form of Hwanwoong that made him worried and neither was it the magic thumbing irregularly, showcasing how the elder felt inside. No, it where his eyes. Because never, not once in all these years he had known Hwanwoong, had he ever seen such an expression. Such eyes. 

_Guilt_. It was the guilt. The intense guilt Yeosang could see in them. In the way Hwanwoong’s eyes searched for his instead of the one’s of his mentor, flickering uneven. 

And something inside of Yeosang understood: Hwanwoong was truly hiding something but not because he was necessarily evil. Or so he hoped. The elder was purposely not telling them with a reason. That it was only an accident they got to know this, just a slip of his tongue. They should have never known. How could he?

Yeosang wanted to be angry, to yell and demand the truth about whatever he was hiding but something inside of him shifted. It was oh so slowly but there, deep down, he thought he might be able to reach it if he tried. He felt the anger morphing in something else, a feeling Yeosang had gotten to know well past few days – something he was unable to describe but attracted to. No, not attracted, rather drawn without real reason. A feeling making his mind buzz uncomfortably. As if something demanded to be let out. 

Instead of him, someone else got mad. He felt how Youngjo’s magic suddenly washed over them and Yeosang could feel the anger in it, the sour taste it left behind when Yeosang tried to feel for it. Never had he let it out so drastically, so intense before. The sheer power made him shiver.

“Hwanwoong, how?!” Youngjo’s voice wasn’t raised, neither friendly. Best compared to a cat hissing at something it distastes. 

The other looked to the ground, then at the wall. Eyes searching for something to focus on. Hwanwoong looked bad, scolded, lonely. Yeosang felt like a spectator in a lovers quarrel just that this one was about him. Without him being one of the lovers. The guilt. Hwanwoong’s guilt over whatever it was, it tasted awful in Yeosang’s mouth. 

“Why does it matter?” Hwanwoong whispered back, clicking his tongue. Was he _annoyed_? 

“Why? I asked you days ago if you had an idea what could potentially be wrong with Yeosang!” Now he raised his voice. Yeosang jerked, letting his eyes shift back and forth between them. “And you had the nerve to hold back such information?! After- after I had been worried sick? You knew Yeosang had potentially weird dreams?! That his memory might be connected to it?!” 

“There might have been a connection, yes but I did not believe in it.”

Hwanwoong tried to defend himself. Tried to make them believe that he had no ill intention with them. But was that true? He had always believed Hwanwoong was just a little bit harder to approach, to get to know.

“You asked me if I knew why I remembered everything.” Because yes, Yeosang remembered everything. “ _‘Have you ever wondered why you can remember everything so clearly?’_ You were nervous before you asked me this and afterwards I-” Yeosang had to inhale sharply. Why hadn’t he seen this connection prior? How could he have been so blind, had he basked in self-pity so much that he had overseen this? “I collapsed after you asked me. Did you- did you trigger it?”

“ _No!_ -“

“Then what.” Youngjo stepped behind Yeosang, his hands resting on Yeosang’s shoulders. He could feel the anger and disappointment vibrating through the air and tried to calm the other down with his own magic, trying to ease the wrinkles and waves his magic was creating but Youngjo didn’t react to it at all. “Explain yourself.”

“There is nothing to explain.” Now it was Hwanwoong’s time to bite back, his teeth gritted in annoyance. “I just shared my knowledge and for that I get accused?” 

“We would never accuse you of something if we would not believe in some truth in our distrust.” 

“Because I am friendly to you? Because I was interested in getting to know you more?” The elder shock his head, biting his lip. Yeosang’s chest tightened dangerously. This was not the talk he had wanted. God no, Yeosang would never think Hwanwoong would do it on purpose. Never.

“Part of it. But there is more.” Youngjo pulled Yeosang closer, holding him firm. “Ever since San showed up, ever since Yeosang was head over heals for the boy, you-“ He pointed an accusing finger at Hwanwoong, “-became weird! Yeosang was always the target for your jealousy and you two ignored each other, even if Yeosang was never mean to you in any way. Then San appeared. Suddenly you where gentle. Asking me about the boy Yeosang loved so much. Hwanwoong, the times you defended their relationship because I was unsure what to make of it, they were more than I could count. I was happy you were changing, helping but it was a change so drastically, it made no sense.” 

“That is something getting accused for?” 

“No. It is not. I thought in the beginning it was you overcoming your jealousy, the thought Yeosang might love me.” Yeosang had to surpass a laugh because he expected as much. “That was not it, no matter how hard you tried to disguise it. Things where changing and I could not understand.”

Youngjo swallowed and Yeosang wondered how his mentor must feel right now, losing hope in the person he loved so dearly, wondering if there might ever appear a time he would question San. No, he would make sure there wasn’t.

“Hwanwoong, you make this harder than it needs to be. We know each other so long now, why can you not trust me? Am I not trust worthy?” 

His mentor sounded broken, torn. Yeosang wouldn’t want to trade places with him. Torn between wanting to understand how they could help Yeosang and being angry at his lover for holding back important information. And torn between wanting to trust the man he had loved and trusted for years. 

“If I would not trust you, I would have not said anything now, would I?” The other hissed at his lover and for a moment Yeosang feared they might start yelling at each other. “It is me who is apparently not trust worthy just because I said nothing, held back information I deemed not helpful.” 

“Hwanwo-“

“No, Yeosang. What was said, was said.”

And Hwanwoong didn’t turn around when he said those and walked away, didn’t look back at them. It hurt in so many different ways, Yeosang wasn’t sure on how to feel at the moment. The feeling inside of him shifting yet again. It was so uncomfortable. 

What was Hwanwoong holding back? Was it important or where they overthinking? 

The guilt in the elder’s eyes. Yeosang wondered why the other had looked so guilty. 

“Youngjo, maybe Hwanwoong regretted his decision of not telling us his idea.” 

Because Yeosang was sure, yes, Hwanwoong might still hide something from them but he wasn’t doing it out of jealousy or evilness – it had another reason he was not yet ready to talk about. And Yeosang wondered why his mind was reacting like it did. Whatever tugged and pulled inside of him.

“I- I do not know what to think right now.” 

Yeosang turned, stood up and pulled his mentor into a hug, lightly rocking them back and forth. It was the first time he ever saw his mentor this broken, not even when he had woken up after his blackout had Youngjo looked so miserable. Fighting the one he loved was breaking him apart. 

And Yeosang was the reason for their fight. 

“I want to believe he had his reasons but- Yeosang, I do not want to lose him.” Youngjo’s voice was so broken, every trace of anger had long vanished with Hwanwoong walking off. “However, how could he? I do not understand him anymore.”

“Maybe it is for the best if we went to bed, what do you say? Let us sleep a night over it and talk with refreshed minds tomorrow.” 

Yeosang saw that the natural must have faded a while ago, now only the flickering light of the candles was left. San was maybe already back, maybe not. But right now, both of them needed time to rest. His body was exhausted from the dream and the pain, from the fighting because of him. Youngjo needed to sleep over everything too. It was enough for one day. 

“Come.”

He silently opened his door, greeted with the dim light of a lit candle and Yeosang smiled faintly. Just minutes ago he had brought Youngjo to one of the guest rooms so him and Hwanwoong wouldn’t run into each other for now and it had taken him much reassurance to make Youngjo stay in it. The elder had wanted to get back to small man, to apologize and demand an explanation but Yeosang had told him strictly that he needed sleep and it should wait until tomorrow. 

So seeing the man perking up on his bed, beautiful features lit by soft white light, made Yeosang sigh instantly. San’s eyes widened the moment he saw Yeosang and he could already predict what the other was thinking in his marvelous head, so Yeosang indicated him to stay on the bed.

Closing the door behind him and changing, this time without being embarrassed about it – Yeosang really had no energy left for it – he trotted over, letting himself fall on the soft blanket. 

“Something happened?” San hummed, a hand running through Yeosang’s hair and he leans into the touch. Every fiber of Yeosang’s body screamed in exhaustion. He wanted nothing more than to sleep and hopefully awake from the never ending nightmare he was trapped in. 

A quiet hum left his mouth but he didn’t even tried to lift his head, instead put an arm over San’s leg and pulled him closer, his face pressing into the thighs. He inhaled. This scent was calming, wanting to drown in San all over again, like the first day he sawn him. Seeing him between all the trees, the beauty around them who complemented him so perfectly. Yeosang wanted to go back to the easier days.

San’s fingers played with the strands of his hair, no further words leaving his mouth and for a while they stayed in this comfortable position, before San gentle nudged him with his legs. Yeosang reluctantly let himself be pushed aside, a groan leaving his mouth when he had to make room. His lover seemed to be amused, a laugh bewitching his ears and as soon as he opens his eyes, does he feels how the bed dips once again. The younger had joined him in lying on the bed and pulled at the blanket. 

Yeosang had to roll his eyes at the other’s cute pout but let the blanket be pulled away underneath and then above him, San joining him. For the first time since he had parted from San did he feel warm again – complete. When he was not with him, it felt wrong. San belonged right there, next to him, no matter who Yeosang might had been in his past lives or who he might be in his next ones. If all of this was true. Because at the moment, everything that mattered was his current life and only San was his one and only. 

“Hold me.” 

He whispered quietly, afraid to disturb the silent night. A warm hand rested on his waist, pushing him a little, making him roll over. Soon enough he felt San’s chest against his back and Yeosang felt his body relaxing. An arm over his stomach pulled him even closer, caging him. It was a cage he would never wanted to leave, a feeling he wanted to chase until he would take his last breath. 

“Sleep, your mind needs a break.”

The younger whispered into his hair, nuzzling it. And something shifted inside of him again but this time, it was like puzzle pieces fitting into the right place, there was no better feeling. With that in mind, a warm breath hitting his neck and legs ultimately tangled he fell asleep. Not afraid of what might happen. 

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Walls so cold, they could be made out of ice. They were everywhere. Around him, above him, beneath him. Chains so tightly wrapped around his wrists, he felt the cold metal piercing into his skin. The cold was draining all of his life energy. If there had been any to begin with, he wasn’t sure. Breezes so freezing, he hoped the rats would die because of it. Everything around him dying a slow and painful death. The world around him was nothing but pure blackness, a veil put above what once was worthy, now claimed and destroyed.

Despite everything, nothing around him could ever make him shiver like the eyes watching him right now. These eyes sprinkled with a color so bright and beautiful, it made him sick, trying to gasp something he could never reach. The soft hues of orange so calming as if he was watching the sun set slowly but surely; a silent promise to resurface just yet another day. An orange so fierce, so wild and dangerous, he feared to burn if he watched even a moment longer. But he couldn’t turn away. The cold he felt by looking right into them was deafening. 

“Who put you in chains?” 

A voice so soft, filled with such warmth it made him want to vomit, to erase the very memory of it completely. Wished he would have never heard it, ignored it the first time and every time after. 

“I did.”

Because he did. As long as he was chained to the freezing stone around him, they wouldn’t dare to come to him. Touch him. Talk to him. Try to change his mind. No, he would never change his mind. He would rather feel every chain holding him down and every stone pressed against his skin before he would ever surrender to them. To the monsters they had become. To the monsters they had been from the very moment he had first sawn them.

“But Yeosang, there is no need to. You are not a prisoner here.”

“I am.” 

“Yeosang.” 

The body moved closer to his but Yeosang sat still, unmoving, not acknowledging the melting distance between them. Eyes trained on each other, the other approached him with great care and he hated it. Hated him. He never hated anything more than him. The man stood so close to him, Yeosang could feel he cold radiating off of him, an uncontrollable shiver running down his spine. His eyes ranked over Yeosang’s small form and he felt like an animal, watched from a distance but there to please the owner. Sickening. 

“Baby, no one is going to hurt you, I promise.”

A cold hand was placed on his cheek and it burned him in so many different ways. His body was giving in, searching for the touch it so desperately needed but his mind wanted to spill his guts out. Or the other’s guts. Not that it mattered for the man, he would survive it anyway. Something inside of him pulled them closer, Yeosang’s mind pushed them away. 

“Because you hurt me already.” He gritted out, a deep growl leaving his throat. “Nothing is worse than _you!_ ” 

“Do not say that Yeosang! I love you.” 

Another hand, this time on his folded legs, slowly caressing it. Yeosang had to bite his lip to not sigh at the contact and show him how much he wanted to feel more. Instead he bit down so hard, he felt the metallic flavor in his mouth. He jerked up when he felt the hand on his thigh tightening, a bone crushing pressure making him gasp. How could he be so dumb. 

“Oh baby, do not hurt your precious skin, okay?” The hand on his cheek vanished but swiped over his lip, collecting the droplets of the red liquid he had spilled. Licked up clean. A satisfied hum. “I can only heal your skin when it was me who damaged it.”

Yeosang shivered. He knew what was coming, knew what he would have to endure. Silently he send prayers to his god, hoping he would somehow escape this mess. Or having it over soon. He wanted to flee, to run and never feel these cold hands on his sadly warm body ever again. Oh how he craved the freezing coldness of his past days. 

“My sweet little boy, let me get a taste of you, it has been so long.”

Long. A few days at most, he had counted the times he had gotten meals. Two meals per day, twelve all in all. Six days. It only had been six days since he had been last visited by them. Since he had been touched. 

He was touch starved, he felt it. Yeosang wasn’t allowed to touch the servants, the puppets who brought his meals and cleaned his room. The warmth he was searching for – he would never get it from them, the human inside had died long ago. But he was human, he craved warmth and love. Not from them. From everyone but them. Yeosang hated them with every fiber of his body but his body wasn’t listening to him. Hadn’t listen to him since the very first day.

So Yeosang couldn’t fight the man opening his chains, slowly and with sickening care taking them off. Freeing him from the only thing which had kept him sane the last six days, destroying the last wall he had built to protect himself. With a jangle they fell to the ground. Hands holding his wrist just lightly. Yeosang paid it no mind, eyes absent minded focused on the wall to his right. He could only survive this if he shut down everything. At least until his body betrayed him. 

Yeosang was picked up with ease, an arm under his legs and one steadying his back, he was gentle placed on a bed. His bed. With everything in him he wanted to shove the man above him away, get distance between them. It was a weak push, Yeosang knew. The other didn’t move an inch but laughed at his weak attempt, catching his hands before Yeosang had the chance to let them fall back. 

“I love you so much.” A kiss against the back of his hand. “You are so gorgeous.” To his palm. “I never met someone so sweet.” To his ring finger. The ring finger.  
He squirmed when he remembered the metal around his finger, the metal cutting his skin. The sign of his belonging – _forced belonging_. 

But his body reacted when one clothing piece after another vanished, a heat wave running over his body when it got exposed to the cold air. Gasped when fingers traced pattern over his flushed skin. He reminded himself to ignore him, to ignore the feeling of anticipation washing over him. Yeosang’s hands where put around another body, the voice whispering into his ear to hold on. And he did as if his life depended on it. Maybe it did. 

The only wish in his mind to have this over as soon as possible. To endure it and move on. The other took his time with Yeosang, enjoying every inch of his being before fully engulfing him. Yeosang felt sick and twisted, wanted to clean his entire body and never feel anything like this again. Still, his toes curled, his feverish body accepting the movement it was exposed to. For his mind, he felt like he was far away, ignoring every touch and every word muttered to him. 

He let his mind wander to past days, to better days. To days without a worry. They could break his mind, his body and future but his past was something they would never own. It was the only place Yeosang could escape to. 

“Yeosang.” His name muttered so close to his ear. “Oh Yeosang.” 

His body had betrayed him, made him squeak and whine beneath the cold frame. Fingers desperately grasping for something to hold onto. Digging into the skin underneath. Yeosang had to gasp, to close his eyes to try not to beg. He hated him, _them_ but he couldn’t hate them. No matter how sick it made Yeosang, how hard it was on him. His fighting spirit was broken. 

“I love you.” 

He wanted to scream, to yell at him that _this_ could never be called love or loving in any kind of way but every sound did in his throat. Until all movements halted, his body shaking tremendously. And then he felt the sick but addictive pain on his neck. Fangs pierced his skin, sinking deep into his vain and drawing out a liquid so red; so alive. A color he had previously loved, now hated. 

Tears ran down his cheeks and Yeosang closed his eyes. 

He was tired, so so tired. Fingers getting numb, while his body shivered at the intrusion, at the loss of his life force. It was an euphoric feeling, the man made him feel like this whether he wanted it or not. 

So he stayed still inside of the arms holding him, baring his neck for the mouth drinking his blood like the sweetest liquid on earth – as if it was the last. It would never be the last. 

The numbness came slowly, starting from the tip of his fingers, over his arms, chest and down to his legs until he couldn’t even feel the arms around him anymore. Just then, when his breath evened out, let the fangs the pray go and Yeosang’s head lulled to the side, unable to hold the tears; the bitter tears. The last thing he felt where the fingers brushing his tears away before his consciousness faded away, bringing him the void he so desperately had hoped for. Inside of an embrace he wished no never witness again. 

Sunlight fell down upon him and he embraced the warmth it spend, had he not felt anything similar in a while. Yeosang’s hand reached for the still closed bud of the wild cherry blossom, feeling the smooth texture beneath his fingertips. He loved this tree, it had always been there for him from the moment he had taken his first breath until now, when he would finally take his last. He hoped so at least. 

Yeosang could vividly remember each summer spend underneath the beautiful tree, his teachers always allowing him to learn outside. His younger self would exclaim in joy that he liked to learn outside the most and no one could say no to him. Yeosang blamed his charming smile he never lost. The tree was also the place where he shed his tears the most. From his father scolding him for peeping on his business affairs to his first heart break from finding out he could never choose a woman himself but had to marry whomever his parents saw as suitable. Freedom was something, no matter when and no matter for what occasion, was never granted to him. So he liked to sit down in front of his massive tree which grew with him, taller and prouder with every year and listened to his stories. At some point he believed the tree was able to grow to become such a gigantic and beautiful thing through his shed tears, that he was somehow sharing the burden and together they became stronger.

It was this very tree where had witnessed everything. Every single thing he had seen while growing up, learned to accept and endure, was crumbling right in front of him. 

Yeosang had never felt such fear. Screams all around him, screeching and yelling, people fighting whatever had invaded their home until he saw it. A person flew from one side of the hallway to the other, Yeosang could see it through the paper walls. Like a shadow flying past. And then it was ripped, shredded to pieces.

_Vampires._

He had never seen them before but his teacher had taught him – taught him to fear the monsters they are. Yeosang wanted to stand up, to run and hide but he couldn’t, his back pressed against the tree he so loved but it wasn’t able to calm his running heart. The blood around the mouth of the vampire had made it obvious, had cleared up every possibly question inside of his head. They were here to kill them all. That’s why he had heard the screams. His blood ran cold. 

His parents. He had wanted to get up and yell for them, search the rooms and help them if he could. But he couldn’t. The fear was paralyzing him. 

The vampire was ravishing the body on the floor and Yeosang felt how the felt like vomiting, trying so hard to look away, to focus on something else. He couldn’t. Yeosang had been unable to look away, had to see how the body of a maid was sucked dry, her very life vanishing in front of his eyes before the vampire laughed in a maniac way. Then he ripped of her head, her arms, her legs. Yeosang had started to cry. Silently, just tears running down his cheeks because he knew what would happen.

He would die under his precious tree, sucked empty of every drop blood inside of him and then torn apart. With a shaking heart he had accepted he would die. The vampire’s eyes snapped to the side, drilled into him with such fierceness, he was afraid to breath. The blue in the other’s eyes seemed to dance to an aggressive rhythm, solid and strong. Yeosang wanted to die – fast. To no longer feel the numbing fear inside of him much longer.

But he didn’t. He was very much alive but the scenery hadn’t changed. Yeosang still lived in the home he had grew up inside, the tree very much still within but in some way he had died that day. No, the old Yeosang had died. The Yeosang he was. What he was now was merely a mirror image of himself, a shell and nothing more. These vampires had taken everything from him. Even his will to live. 

Yeosang wanted to die but he couldn’t. Whatever he wanted to try, it was like they were always a step ahead of him. No sharp objects, no walk near cliffs or roads. They isolated him. And Yeosang wondered once in a while how long it had been since the faithful day but he couldn’t remember. He had never seen his parents again however, the vampires had said with great clarity that they were dead and would never come back. Would never hold power ever again. Yeosang had long stopped crying about their deaths, accepting that he couldn’t join them in the afterlife because he was chained to the life on earth. That evil forces ruled over him.

“Yeosang?” 

He stirred out of his day dream, his head slowly turning to the voice. Someone kneeled beside him, illuminated by the bright sunlight and Yeosang hated all the false fairy tales of vampires becoming dust when exposed to sunlight. Liars. 

“My prince?” 

Yeosang gulped, casted his eyes away. He was no longer a prince. There was no throne to sit on, no kingdom to rule. Without his family, his established surroundings, what was he? A nobody. There was nothing he could return to, nothing he owned or possessed. They took everything. 

“I am no prince.” He whispered, eyes casted upwards towards the sky. What his family was thinking of him now, when they could see him like this? “You took that away.” 

A sigh left the vampire’s mouth even though he had no need to breath and Yeosang hated him. 

“That is not true. With us at your side you are still a prince. We never took this from you.” 

“I hate you.” Yeosang tried to let his words sound like pure venom but what instead left his lips where a quiet whisper because he knew. Yeosang hated them, both of them but some twisted part inside of him couldn’t stop yearning. Whatever he was exactly yearning for he wasn’t sure. But he suppressed this inner desire as much as possible, even if he had to forcefully make his mind shut up. 

“Baby, we both know that this is not true.” He hated the gentleness in his voice, the calm manner he always approached Yeosang with. Why where both of them not snapping yet, done with his bratty behavior? A cold hand guided Yeosang’s head down with a light tuck at his chin and Yeosang felt how his skin tingled at the touch. Damned be his body. Reluctantly he looked at the other and felt his breath hitch at the soft blue hue, looking so calmly at him. The color reminded him of the sky they sat beneath, so bright and inviting, Yeosang wanted to fall into them, to nuzzle inside the velvet and never get up again. He hated himself for such a simple, weak thought. 

“I hate you-“ 

But the cold but soft lips on his shut him up and he was once again surprised how a vampire could be soft when they were dead in fact. He hated how his body automatically curved into the embrace, Yeosang’s hands shaking but ready to steady himself on the arms of the other. Moaned into the mouth which he knew by now way to well. Yeosang wondered when the word hate hat become his favorite but he was incapable of voicing it in any other way. If he would let himself fall into the despair that was his life, he would become crazy and that was something he couldn’t let happen. Yeosang didn’t survive for so long to just fail now. He wouldn’t give them that too.

“No-“ He tried to break away and the other let him, smiled reassuringly at him. God, he wanted to whip that disgusting smile away. Not only the smile but every touch he received, every glance thrown at him as is if he mattered. Because for them, he didn’t matter. They always tried to tell him that Yeosang had a saying in his current life, that he was very much alive and well doing. Not once had they ever considered that his mind and his body weren’t exactly on the same page. That whatever drew Yeosang to them wasn’t his own mind but something deeply rooted inside of him he was incapable of fighting, no matter how hard he tried. 

“You look absolutely breath-taking bathing in the sunlight, Yeosang. I could never see enough of you. I love you so much, my prince.” 

The vampire’s hand searched his and he unwillingly let their fingers intertwine, one cold against one warm. A disgusting feeling. Tried to remember how his mother’s hand felt in his whenever she had held him close when he had been on the verge of crying, of crumbling because of his past failures. For a moment he could feel her faded warmth; it was gone as soon as it had appeared. Yeosang was so incredible lonely. 

“Can you stop.” 

“With what, love?” 

“This.” Yeosang held their hands up high, waving it to make his point clear. “Mingi, can you not see I do not want this.” 

How he hated the sadness washing over the other’s face, disgusted at his own mind that it affected him so much. He was held hostage, not even allowed to end himself and yet he felt bad for saying the truth. Yeosang despised his own twisted mind. The vampire never loosed the hold on him but squeezed shortly once, casting his eyes to the side before looking at Yeosang again. It was as if the blue was luring him, the blue so crystal clear as if it was made out of ice and Yeosang was afraid of his own reflection in them. Of what he could potentially see.

“We both know that this statement is not true. You love us and we love you. Is it so hard to accept the truth?” 

Yeosang wanted to yell, to scream and punch him, to tear this very man apart for all the lives he had taken. For every single human he had killed just for the sake of power. But he found himself incapable of forming coherent words, instead he deflated against the tree behind him, most likely looking just as torn as the vampire. Even more when said second one appeared in the distance. Coming closer way to fast, just coming to a halt right next to the other vampire and whatever they communicated with their shared glance, it went over Yeosang’s head. 

“Hey.” 

“No-“

“Jongho, he still does not believe in our true love for him.” Mingi said, placing a featherlike kiss against the back of Yeosang’s hand. 

“But we do.” Jongho tried to reassure him as it seems but Yeosang’s stomach only twisted more at their words. They would not guilt trip him. Not again. 

“How can you call this love.” He whined, feeling how his hard shell cracked and suppressed emotions came up. Tears running freely, he hiccupped. “You killed my family, my friends. Enslaved everyone who was not able to flee in time. You keep me here, trapped with no possibility to go. If I get outside of this house, it is always with you, am I a pet to you? Something you can keep on a leash? You do not even allow me to end myself.” Yeosang shakes, voice cracking. “How is this love when you force yourself on me each and every time. When I have no right to say no because you do it anyway? When I have no control over my body, it responding to things I would never willingly react to?” 

They were silent, their eyes burning holes. Eyes filled with pity, with sadness – with angst. They feared the day Yeosang would die and he knew that. Yeosang had nothing to lose anyway. 

“I would rather _die_ than be with you two!” 

It was a beautiful day, not yet fully summer, when Yeosang finally got his wish fulfilled. The sky was as blue as Yeosang had never seen it before, not a single cloud to be seen while sun was merciless shining down upon him. Yet here he was, not bothered in the slightest. He knew the sky would embrace him, welcome him in the rows he belonged to, next to the once he missed so dearly. 

All of this would finally come to an end. Yeosang would be free. 

He had to thank the kitchen boy for being his accomplice. Who would have thought a vampire would help him, especially when it meant to betray his leaders. How was he called again? Jisung? Right, Han Jisung. Yeosang prayed for the boys safety, that he would get away like he promised, saying his boyfriend had everything prepared for them to move and run.

His eyes went up once more to his beloved tree, just admiring her beauty for one last time. It was a goodbye and Yeosang firmly believed the cherry blossom tree knew as much. He heard her faint whisper in the breeze, her lament so soft it might have passed others but not Yeosang. She send him a farewell, hoping for him that his decision had been the right one. 

Maybe he had gone insane at the end, thinking the tree spoke to him but what did it matter anymore, there was no one left to tell him about his insanity. 

It was a simple task to get everything ready within a short time, using the little time he had alone to make it work. Because this was it. With his legs dangling over the tree branch he sat on, Yeosang casted one last glance over the place he had once called home, which had become his prison. He wouldn’t miss it. There was nothing left to miss. It was time to set his twisted mind free. 

The moment he put the rope around his neck set in finality. There was nothing to hesitate anymore and in the moment he fell, the last seconds of his live, Yeosang was able to see world in color again. For a fraction of a second before everything was over. 

He had died quickly, his neck snapping exactly how he had always pictured it, just that he would never know about it. 

Yeosang died under the cherry blossom tree on a day which was not yet in summer – it was his birthday. 

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

When Yeosang awoke this time, he knew something had changed, was different from before. He could barely turn his head but he saw his own room, flickering in candle light. No one was in it besides him. A groan left him but he felt to weak to push himself up so he stayed down and instead watched the ceiling. Lifted his arms instead, drew forms into the barely light room. Because he remembered. 

Yeosang had died. He had killed himself in a previous life. It was real. No matter what had made him doubt it before, the feeling of finality inside of him told the truth. Yeosang had hanged himself because he had not seen another way out of the misery he had found himself in.

The rope around his neck. His hand wandered up, feeling the throat bop underneath his own fingertips. It was as if he could feel the burns of the rope, the irritated and ripped skin, the quick heartbeat he had before he had jumped. The burning desire to die. It felt so real. 

_It had been real._

The way Mingi had held him always so gentle, kissed him with so much care and affection. The way Jongho had always been eager to please him, to fulfill his dreams even if they were just small wishes. These two vampires had loved him. Yeosang had hated them, to some extent. But now, with these feelings pulsating through his chest, he wasn’t so sure anymore. Was that hate? 

It was hate with a reason. Yeosang had been a prince, or so he assumed since that’s what they had called him, and killed everyone he had ever known. So, hating them seemed plausible. However, what had pulled him to them? It felt oddly familiar, a feeling Yeosang should be able to name but it died right on his tongue. 

Yeosang was surprised at himself, surprised how calm he was when he acknowledged it that, yes, he had lived before. Shouldn’t he be terrified? Or scared? He was unsure but his emotions seemed to peaceful for the first time in days and he appreciated it. Staring at the ceiling, however, made him restless. He had killed himself. Yunho had been killed. Yeosang knew as much, from the fragments he had seen inside of his dreams. 

“There must be more.” Yeosang muttered into the darkness. “A life is more than what a dream can display.” 

Maybe it was meant for the darkness around him, maybe he said it for himself, a certainty in his voice he had missed the last few days. What was his body, his memory, telling him? 

He pushed himself up with new found determination. If he had been a prince before and vampires had raided his home, there must be some sort of records for it. Someone had written it down, he was sure of it. There were so many fragments he still missed, had to find and put together to make a whole canvas. 

A hand forcefully pushed him down.

Shocked and totally surprised he fell back onto the bed, his eyes widened. Yeosang tried to turn his head, to see who was with him, who he had missed after he had woken up. Instead he felt how his body didn’t move an inch, not listening to him anymore. Panic crawled up. Someone was in his room and had control over him. And then it hit him, where was _San_? 

With all his might he tried to toss and turn, to do _something_. But his body didn’t listen, only laughed at him for every try, every failed attempt to use his magic. Yeosang felt like a fish on land, destined to die due to dehydration. The peacefulness of his mind was gone, replaced with utter fear. Whoever stood besides his bed could have potentially harmed San and could do similar things with him every time, whenever they pleased. He is a victim inside of his own bed. Even his magic, the always present buzzing deep inside of his veins was gone, possibly suppressed to stop him from using it. 

Then there was a hand on his throat. Yeosang chocked, eyes even wider. The other made him ultimately aware of the fact that he was at his mercy. A finger slowly traced over his Adam’s apple, he swallowed uncontrollably. Suddenly, the whole hand lied over his throat, finger’s closing around his neck. Yeosang couldn’t breathe. He felt like suffocating. His body rejected the hand, the fingers around it, the feeling of it – but he was unable to do anything. 

_I’m going to die._

“Yeosang breath.” 

It was a simple command, nothing that would have ever gotten through the fog that surrounded his fear filled brain. But he heard it. He reacted. Slowly and with a stark beating heart, he began to breath again. Yeosang had held his breath, not the hand around him had robbed him from air but he himself. His lungs filled with sweet sensation of air. With a cough he closed his eyes. 

The hand was still there, pressing onto his throat but the person wasn’t chocking him. Yeosang’s mind was racing, still screaming at the lack of oxygen. It took him a few deep breaths before he finally calmed down, opening his eyes again. The person still stood outside of his line of view, holding him both with his hand and with his power down.

“Sa-n.” Was all Yeosang could croak out, desperately hoping his lover was fine, had not encountered this danger.

“In the village.” 

Yeosang visibly deflated, a big sigh leaving his mouth. If San was away, it meant whoever this was, they had waited for the younger to leave. Had waited until Yeosang was awake. They were here with a purpose to fulfill – whatever that might be. 

The grip around his throat loosened. A finger gentle from one side to the other, following an invisible string. Back and forth – twenty-one times. Then the full hand around his neck again, pressing down. 

“The rope around your neck, you remember it.”


	6. When the sun sets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sing* It's going down, down down~  
> Okay, no I can't sing but it will go down now. For real. This is a rollarcoster ride. 
> 
> I wonder if this can answer some questions? It will bring more, that is for sure.  
> I hope you enjoy this 10k piece. We are officially now in the middle part of the story. 
> 
> Tags for this chapter: second pov, mentions of blood/slaughter/etc.
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/SolreyItIs) and my [ CC](https://curiouscat.me/@SolreyItIs)

With heavy steps he followed the path, a cold breeze rushing past him, sending a shiver down his spine. Without worry he knew the way by now, had walked it a few times. Today, however, his feet felt heavier, his heart painfully squeezing for a reason unknown. He feared the dreading feeling inside of his chest. Still, he couldn’t exactly say why he experiences this.

He pulled the coat around him closer while heaving a deep sigh. A change was in the air and San couldn’t tell what it was, how it would affect him. Affect them. Fingertips tingling uncomfortable. 

With every minute separated from Yeosang he feared the older would hurt himself again, even if they didn’t knew what cause it had, where it originated from. There must be a reason but they were unable to find one. Everything had a reason, San firmly believed that. But what reason could be behind Yeosang’s distress? No matter how hard he tried to think about the answer, the more his thoughts circles around it the further he felt away from it. 

He wanted nothing more than peaceful days with the man he loved, without pain or fear, just them against the world. That’s how San saw it most days. 

Yeosang had walked into his life and turned it around, changed it to the better in a matter of weeks. The day Yeosang had caught him staring was the day San had known that there would be something, anything, between them. That it became love, San would have never guessed. The idea of giving himself to someone, to show his vulnerable side and expecting the protection from said one had scared him in the beginning. Afraid to do something wrong he had taken himself back, still warry if the whole situation with Yeosang was indeed real. Falling strongly when San understood that it was. 

And maybe it had been inevitable them growing closer, more comfortable with each other because whatever Yeosang did, it made his heart flutter, stutter more often than not. 

The older had never forced him into uncomfortable situations, was patient with him even if the progress had been slow. 

Now he couldn’t imagine his life without the adorable sorcerer who had his heart on his tongue. 

But when he now was alone with his thoughts, San couldn’t stop the worries from flooding his mind. It was a constant nagging, never leaving him. Even now, when he saw his village appear at the end of the road, he couldn’t stop and think back to the man he had left in the early hours of the day. 

He couldn’t help himself but wonder if Yeosang might had another painful night and San wasn’t there for him, couldn’t try and sooth the potential distress his lover was feeling. It was horrible. Still, no matter how much he wanted to stay at Yeosang side he had to go out and get a breather, to get a little distance between them even if it was just for a few hours. 

Because something was changing. He could see it in Yeosang’s eyes, could see that there was an underlying truth about the situation he was hiding from San. His heart clenched in pain, wondering what he was doing wrong for not being included, for being left out. Hoping he hadn’t done something to break the trust of the elder. San couldn’t handle it if he did. No, it was unlikely. 

Whatever was happening to Yeosang, it must be worsening. San felt it, in the way Yeosang was actively searching for him more, in the way their love seemed to become stronger even through all the secrets. 

In the way his fingers seemed to tingle whenever he touched Yeosang, such an electrifying, addicting feeling San had almost lost himself one time. Would have gone further without getting the consent from Yeosang and that horrified him. Of course he was attracted to the older male and it was understandable that, as his partner, he was allowed to touch the other but their relationship was always one of conversations. Trying to understand what they were comfortable with. So where was this suddenly coming from? San felt lost. Scared of his own display of desire.

Maybe that’s why he went home. All the thinking got him running in circles without providing him with a possible way out of it. 

The sun was steadily rising when San finally entered the village, the first people already running around and doing their daily chores. The market slowly opened up, rustling heard from every direction. Quietly he wondered if he had stayed in the village for all his life or if he would have moved when his grandmother had eventually passed away. Now he had a reason to stay, even if his old lady would meet the spirits one day. Yeosang had given him a reason, a purpose to live on. 

The concern he held for Yeosang overshadowed the one he felt for his grandmother and it was a terrible feeling when San remembered, was disgusted at himself for forgetting the person who had raised him, given him a home and place to stay. And San knew his grandmother wouldn’t get angry at him, wouldn’t be disappointed in her grandchild. She was to soft for him. 

Without noticing had San already left the marketplace behind and followed the path to his grandmother’s shop. He hummed a melody to distract himself, casting his eyes left and right to watch the people passing him. Then he noticed it. Felt it. Stood still and watched, no, stared back. The village people where staring at him, blatantly and obvious.

San gulped, stumbling a step back at the intensity of their gazes, the holes their stares threatened to burn into him and San didn’t know why. 

Sure, there had always been a certain distrust towards him but normally he was plainly ignored, acknowledged at best. Staring at him, however, was new. He had never caused them any issue so why where all these judging stares directed at him? 

Asking them was a no, he couldn’t do that, as if they would tell him. Maybe they wouldn’t even speak with him when their gazes already felt poisoned. Their words would drop venom at this point. Now he could feel it, almost visualize it – the feeling of something changing hadn’t been directed at him or Yeosang but at the village he had grown up within. Whatever it was, San felt his heart thumbing loudly in his chest. Like hands grabbing him, holding him in place and closing around his heart. He tried to understand, to make the disruptive energy leave him alone but it seemed to be glued to him, chains of nothingness closing around his feet while leaking an indescribable energy. 

Nothing like he had ever felt before but it reached for him, _at him_. Reach for depths inside. Trying to grasp and get a hold of him. It scared San. His fists balling, fingernails digging into palms. 

San felt threatened by it, understood the dangerousness of it. The ominous energy sipping into his very being, rising his pulse. But when he blinked, it was like nothing had happened, everything returning to normal. The people where staring at him but in their eyes laid no maliciousness. The heat of their stares nothing more than simple glances, most not even stopping to look at him. It was as if he had _dreamed _everything, like an illusion showed to him to mask what was really happening.__

__It couldn’t be real. Was he so exhausted so he began hallucinate now? Had their situation mixed with reality?_ _

__With hurried steps he ran past the judging eyes, stumbling more than actually running but San spared no second glance. The shiver hitting his body was enough to make him go, his mind falling into the fight or flee instinct. Fleeing seemed like the better option in this scenario._ _

__Whatever had him there was gone now but the bitter after taste made his skin crawl._ _

__His breath became erratic, side hurting from the sudden sprint but San ignored it, went past the houses down the street, his surroundings nothing more than blurred lines, around a corner until he saw the familiar house appear in front of him. With a rush of adrenaline he sprinted the last few steps, almost colliding with the door because he was running to fast, hadn’t calculated the distance at all. San leaned on the door, heaving deep breaths. He was still outside, people could see him, talk about him. He gulped, opening the door._ _

__A rush of scents washed over him, lulling him into safety. Stepping inside he saw the shop of his grandmother exactly like he had last seen it and San felt how his heart calmed down a little, not as strongly beating anymore. The scents he knew since his childhood, the place which had always provided a room to come back to and hide if needed. With the person who had been at his side all his life._ _

__His grandmother looked up from her work. The glint in her eyes mirrored knowledge of decades. It was the moment the door fell close behind him, when San’s vision became black, his consciousness fading. The last thing San saw how his grandmother rushed to him, yelling something over her shoulder but his mind couldn’t grasp them anymore._ _

__

__Yeosang shivered at the words. _Remembering the rope_. His eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, focused on nothing, all his senses tingling because of the hand around his throat. Whoever this person was, they could end Yeosang if they wanted to – had only to close the hand to stop him from breathing. _ _

__And they knew. Had knowledge about how Yeosang had died in one of his previous life’s, a life he hadn’t known he had lived until a few minutes ago._ _

__“How did it feel-“ The voice sounded so close but Yeosang couldn’t pinpoint it, the echo of it seemingly coming from every direction, “-to die at your own hands?”_ _

__Yeosang gulped, pressed his eyes close because the question made his stomach drop. He had tried to not think about it, about the reason why he had ended it, about _them_. At least not alone, had wanted a second opinion on it, someone to catch him if he would fall into the depths of his mind again. Yet here he was, pinned down in his own bed, confronted with it head on. _ _

__How it felt? Horrible. How else should he be feeling. Yeosang knew, felt it deep in his core, that his former self had felt free, good even, when he had put the rope around his neck and even better when he had taken the last step. But his current self? Couldn’t be as enthusiastic about it. The burn around his neck, the cut of his air, the way his body felt while falling towards the earth._ _

__The very last seconds of his life._ _

__“Good.” He whispered, voice barely there. “Now not so much-“_ _

__“You chose your ending. It was your decision.”_ _

__Yeosang wanted to yell at the person, demanding what they could possibly know about him and his reasons but felt himself unable to. Not because of the magic pinning him down. Not because of the hand still resting on his throat. It was a feeling of nostalgia which washed over him, crashing down like waves at the coasts._ _

__“How- how do you know-“_ _

__Gasping out, feeling how his body slowly lost the numbness in it. Was the magic vanishing?_ _

__“The same way you know.” The voice seemed suddenly so far away, the distance so great Yeosang had to actively listen to understand. “Just not through your eyes.”_ _

__“What do you mean-? Not through my _eyes_?” _ _

__Yeosang whispered back, hoping the voice would talk to him once more, clear up the rising questions. He was only greeted with silence. Heavy, thick silence. Taking a deep breath, he noticed the fingers around his neck had vanished as well, the magic traces of the being the only thing which was left behind. Sizzling in the air, vibrating against his skin, colliding with his own magic. But slowly fading away._ _

__Whoever this person had been, their magic had been superior to his own. Just the tingling of his body slowly awaken from it’s slumber made him breath out in hope. Whatever spell they had used on him, it was only temporary so Yeosang took a deep breath and laid still, waiting for the rest magic to disperse._ _

__Leaving him alone with his thoughts and his new found knowledge. With the fact that what Hwanwoong had said might be true, him being a lost soul bound between the realms and damned to reborn until he was deemed worthy of finally getting his rest._ _

__Because he wasn’t alone in the knowledge anymore, had this mysterious person not confirmed their theories. Yeosang had lived before and they knew it, knew details no one else but Yeosang was aware of._ _

__He had to let out a breath, closing his eyes when he felt how much he was shaking. Yeosang’s body slowly regained it’s strength and he was able to sit up._ _

__“What was this?”_ _

__Muttered under his breath, Yeosang noticed it had do be already the next day, light flowing through the window and illuminating the once dark room. No matter how awake he felt, for Yeosang it felt like he was still dreaming, unable to grasp that this had just happened._ _

__

__“Excuse me what?”_ _

__Youngjo almost fell out of his seat, eyes-widened with shock._ _

__“Tell me about it.” Yeosang laned against the doorframe, letting his head rest on the wood. “It still feels unreal.”_ _

__“Wait- give me a minute. I have to sort this.”_ _

__The elder held his hand out, gesturing him to stop talking and Yeosang complied, narrowing his eyes on the slumped over figure instead. His mentor seemed to be just as lost as he was, overrun by the sudden development and the reveals they had been exposed to._ _

__His mind was still field full of traps, ever new thought seemed to trap him in an endless circles of questions and worries. Because what could Yeosang do with the knew found knowledge? What worth had it to him? It didn’t seem to be that far fetched to resume life how it had been and start training again, a possibility but Yeosang understood that it wasn’t quite this easy. He had, until now, remembered two former lifetimes but what guaranteed him he wouldn’t remember more? That there are still some he was unable to remember? No, Yeosang wasn’t up for a hunt._ _

__“Two former lifetimes. Yeosang, do you understand this meaning?” Youngjo’s voice sounded strained, thin – worried. “Can you grasp the importance?”_ _

__“I believe I do not.” Yeosang had to admit, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. This was a conversation outsiders shouldn’t catch on._ _

__“Think about it Yeosang, no one gets revived for the solely purpose of being revived. Let alone the energy needed to be provided from whoever sends you back here – it is immense.” Youngjo sighs, burying his head in his hands. “You remembered two lifetimes which were completely separated from each other, both in time and place. Which means-“_ _

__“I have been stuck in this circle for a while?”_ _

__“Most likely.”_ _

__Yeosang shivered. Knowing it himself was one thing, getting it acknowledged by his mentor? Something entirely different. But he had to wonder, both of his previous life’s where unaware of their fate, what made this life different?_ _

__“But why? Why am I remembering this when my previous life’s had no idea about it.”_ _

__Shaking his head and mumbling something under his breath, Youngjo stood up and moved through the room. His face was scrunched and the glimmer in his eyes told Yeosang that his mentor was thinking hard, trying to make sense out of it._ _

__“Anything that changed recently?” Youngjo stood still, gazing at him. “Do remember a weird encounter maybe? Someone who could have triggered it? Did you change? Is there-”_ _

__“Youngjo, calm down, I cannot answer you if you drown me in questions.”_ _

__Yeosang could muster a little laugh before he leaned against the table, watching his mentor running around like scared chicken._ _

__“The only thing which was unusual was the training at the palace but none of the people I met there behaved weird. Everyone was friendly. I cannot recall a single bad influence there.”_ _

__“Are you sure? You did not forget?”_ _

__“I cannot believe you are asking me this.” Yeosang laughed, holding his shaking self up, easing the uneasiness inside of him. “My memory works fine, like always. It just seems it works too good nowadays when I am able to remember memories of my past life’s. Wait there might be something-”_ _

__“But?”_ _

__“But it is farfetched. Very implausible.”_ _

__Because there was something that had occurred, not recently but also not years ago, the most critical change in his life after he had been chosen by Youngjo. And if Yeosang was interpreting his mentor’s wide eyes right, had the elder noticed too. Yeosang hated the mere thought of it, however, another idea seemed not be on the horizon anytime soon._ _

__“San.”_ _

__“ _San_.” He whispered back, gulping. Because San had come into his life and changed it, to the better how Yeosang thought but the possibility of the younger triggering it seemed like an option they had to consider. Even if he hated to admit it, felt how his heart clenched in pain by simply thinking such thoughts about his lover. “He was the biggest change in my life the past months.” _ _

__Youngjo visibly deflated, took steps back when the truth of Yeosang’s words hit him and practically fell against the bookshelf behind him, steadying himself barely with his hands. His mentor looked the same Yeosang currently felt like. Shocked and worried._ _

__The thought alone of San somehow involved in this made his stomach twist, turn in the most painful ways. Especially if the younger was unaware of it, which was most likely the case. Never, not even once, would Yeosang think bad of his love, knew that the man so important in his life would never do such things on purpose. Which didn’t rule out the possibility that San might be involved and triggering his memories, without him knowing anything about it. And Yeosang hated this thought, the option of involving his lover even more, giving him the idea of the pain being his fault._ _

__No matter what the reason was in the end and even if San was unwillingly involved in it, he would never blame him._ _

__“How?” Youngjo slowly sank down, looking defeated. In every other situation would he have been touched by the open worry from his mentor over his lover, right now, however, was the only thing Yeosang could think about on how to find out the truth. Whatever this truth was in the end._ _

__“I do not like this idea either but it is the only explanation I could find, the only idea I came up with. If you have another idea which sounds better please propose it, everything excluding San is better than mine.”_ _

__“There is none, I cannot think of one right now.” The elder closed his eyes and Yeosang watched him with sadness, and in between all their unbearable feelings had their magic mixed, reacted to one another and gave both of them a sense of understanding._ _

__Yeosang wanted nothing more than feel San fall into his arms, to melt their bodies together, inhale San’s indescribable scent and bath in his warmth. To hear his voice, the beautiful and cheerful laugh which was undeniable San. Wanted to tell San how much he loved him, how much he hoped to have everything over soon._ _

__Forgetting everything that happened the past few hours._ _

__To forget the dream, the way he had chosen his own death over living and the person who had apparently seen it. Erasing the feeling of dread from his inside, chasing a feeling of happiness instead of despair._ _

__“We should think this over.” Yeosang tried, his shoulders crumbling due to the exhaustion creeping up inside of him. He wanted nothing more than everything to be finally over, to have a great conclusion. “Research it-“_ _

__“You will not research anything on your own anymore, it is to dangerous. Imagine you stumble over another word and suddenly you find yourself back into one of these dreams? No, I will research it whenever I can. I wrote a letter and sent it to a friend, another high class sorcerer in hope she might be able to shine a light in this matter. It was before I knew you were having another one so soon.”_ _

__“She can help?” Yeosang was sceptic, couldn’t believe there was someone who could help them. But he had to believe, Youngjo wouldn’t ask just anyone for help for such a matter._ _

__“Absolutely, I have my knowledge over this topic from here, she surely knows a lot more she has not taught me. We have to wait for her letter to arrive. It should not take very long.”_ _

__He hummed, feeling his own body still shaking. However, wishing that everything had been nothing more than simple dreams was over. This was real. To real for Yeosang’s liking._ _

__In the corner of his eyes he saw how the elder slowly rose back to standing, holding his waist shortly before Youngjo came with big steps closer, from one moment to the other he was suddenly crowding Yeosang in his space. A hand shot up and around his neck._ _

__Yeosang was shocked, didn’t dared to move or speak, memories of earlier rushing back into his mind. His magic was buzzing, defending him against the hand around his neck but way to late did he notice the not ill intention behind it. Only understood what his mentor was doing when his magic had already pushed the older a few meters away, Youngjo first looking at Yeosang’s neck before he looked at his hand._ _

__“I- I am sorry, I was surprised.”_ _

__Youngjo didn’t answer him, stared instead onto his hand as if it would reveal all the answers his needed. Yeosang knew the elder had only wanted to see if he could locate left over energy around, on or inside of him but Yeosang’s panicked mind had concluded another reason. He could still feel his mentor’s fingers on his throat, knowing immediately that the intruder hadn’t been Youngjo, the feeling way to different for them to be the same person. Who else could it have been?_ _

__Who was capable of such acts?_ _

__“Youngjo?”_ _

__The elder snapped his head up in surprise, his eyes mirroring horror. Taken back Yeosang stumbled back into the table, feeling his own breath cut short. He had never seen his mentor like this before. So horrified. Had the elder never displayed such strong emotions after simply feeling after energy. Almost as if-_ _

__“You felt the energy on me. You know that energy.”_ _

__Youngjo looked away. Bingo. Of course, someone so strong, so powerful like the intruder had to have crossed Youngjo’s part at some point. But where? Why was the revelation so horrifying to his mentor and friend?_ _

__“ _Tell me_.”_ _

__“No, I do not know what you mean.” The elder hurried to the door, not casting a single glance back. “I- I have to confirm something. Please, listen to your mentor and take a break, do not do anything stupid.”_ _

__With that was his mentor gone, rushing out of the door and letting it fall shut with force, making the loud sound echoing back from the walls around him. Yeosang jerked at it.  
And broke down. _ _

__Tears fell, streaming down his face. Without much strength left he fell forwards down on his knees, the cold immediately sipping into his legs but he did nothing against it, let his body met the cold ground willingly. Sobs leaving his mouth. It was all too much. Pretending he was okay, pretending he could understand what was happening around him._ _

__Too much for a single soul to handle._ _

__Crushing him underneath fragments of truths he couldn’t understand, had never learned to decipher. Everything seemed to fall apart under him, around him, inside him.  
He was just a twenty years old young man who tried to live his life yet here he was, breaking down due to things out of his control.  
Yeosang was so tired. _ _

__

__At nighttime Yeosang was still alone, San hadn’t come back and neither did Youngjo. Both of them had vanished, even if he did now where San was, a bad feeling spread through his body._ _

__Something wasn’t right with Yeosang. Something so essentially that it hade made him relieve probably countless life’s in search for a way to break out of the never ending circle._ _

__Yeosang wanted to know, wanting to see how he could potentially go against it – break it._ _

__But the feeling of something being wrong had accompanied him the whole day, through the countless things which had happened in only one day and he was afraid what else could be. Hoped San was alright wherever he was, whatever he was doing. The fear of losing his lover resurfacing and drowning him.  
All he could do was wait. And he did. _ _

__One night passed by but San never came back, which was so unlikely of him especially in the severe situation they were currently in. Yeosang was worried. After a night of no resurfacing memories and the lack of his beloved, he paced down the hallway. He had not slept much last night, the bad feeling boiling inside of his heart like water over an open flame. Almost running down the hallways he had memorized years ago, was able to find the right place even with his eyes closed._ _

__Storming inside the room, shocked faces turned to him, stopping in the middle of what they were doing. Yeosang paid them no mind, searched immediately for a single person._ _

__“Young Kang?”_ _

__His head snapped to the side and a relieved feeling washed over him. Upon seeing his distressed state came the maid closer, examining him closely._ _

__“What happened?” She asked, her voice laced with concern. The way he had barged in, it was no way she was concerned._ _

__“San he-“ Yeosang had to take a deep breath, Seunghee holding him up, “-he did not come back yesterday, left before I was awake. I have a bad feeling. Can you please-“_ _

__“I am on it.” She reassured him, before guiding him slowly to one of the chairs inside of the kitchen, leaning down to him when he finally had something solid beneath him. The floor felt like pudding. “You stay here and eat something. Try to calm down, do you hear me? You only worry yourself to death this way. Let me take care of it, I find him.”_ _

__He could only nod, watch her talking with the other maids before she left in a hurry. One of the other maids came up to him, smiled at him her best smile and on other days he might would’ve returned it, but Yeosang’s mind was to occupied for it._ _

__When the feeling had been bad yesterday, today it was threatening to choke him, pull him down into the unknown. Fears he never had felt before crashed down on him like a wave and made him nauseous._ _

__It was hard for him to concentrate on anything else but the horror he felt, the knowledge of something coming but having no idea what, when, where. Just it coming closer._ _

__Yeosang was barely able to eat, the maid had to talk him into it and even then it was hard to eat more than a handful. Each bite felt like poison in his body. He knew he was disturbing the maids but was unable to move, his legs glued where they were._ _

__For hours he sat there, watching the maids until eventually he fell asleep, drifting away into the abyss of blackness. His last thought how he couldn’t fall asleep until Seunghee was back._ _

__-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈_ _

__Waves were thrown against the wood which promised to hold up, making the ship sway with the water it was surrounded with. The planks above him creaked, almost giving up. Screams echoing through the ship._ _

__He could barely register the voices brought to his ears, had problems breathing, his lungs rattling with every taken breath. It was hard to stay awake, to register the many feet running around, above him and next to him, hard to understand the words echoing back from the wooden planks around._ _

__But he felt the fingers, even if his brain couldn’t fully register the touch, it was there – ghosting over him as if to asset if he was still alive. He wanted to laugh because the whole situation seemed so bizarre but in the end nothing more than a dying whimper escaped his mouth, making whoever had touched him startled._ _

__Maybe, he thought, this was the best situation to die in. At least he wasn’t alone anymore, maybe they were nice enough to throw his body back to the sea he so missed._ _

__

__He woke up some time later, completely disoriented and weak, his arms bare strong enough to lift his upper body before he fell down again, face first into something soft. Softer than anything he had ever touched. After finding out he was unaware where he was and whom the ship he was on could possibly belong to, it was the best decision to lay low and wait, snuggle a little deeper into the softness before he might never experience again._ _

__For a while he was alone. Occasionally he heard voices outside of the door of the room he was in, picked up a language he had heard but never learned, trying to decipher if the man shouting sounded evil or not. It was nothing he could really understand, had he not spoken for a while nor had anyone speaking with him. The only voice serenating him was the ocean outside of all the wood, the water who was calling for him. He wanted to answer, to tell it that he was alright however, he decided against it. Until he wasn’t sure who had taken him in, he wouldn’t even try to say a single thing, scared of the consequences he might face for it._ _

__So it took another couple of hours until he heard hushed voices outside of the door until a pair of feet walked away, leaving behind the sound of steps echoing back. If he really concentrated, he was able to hear the uneven breath outside of the door and so he waited, lying on his back and waited. Whatever the person was thinking, he knew they were most likely afraid of him and he could understand, not many where aware of what awaited one if they travelled over the open sea._ _

__A deep breath was taken and slowly the door was opened. It squeaked horribly and he had to hold his sensitive ears, hating how the sound had visibly hurt him. Someone rushed to him, bending over him, throwing a shadow over his body. The flame, he had learned it was a candle, had spent him light but now it was taken from him, making it hard to make out who exactly stood over him._ _

__He tried to raise his arm and touch whoever it was but said person shrieked, scrambling away from him while falling on his ass. His? He turned his head, taking in the features. It looked like a man, a male, even if he had delicate features and where these _pointed_ ears? _ _

__While the man on the ground took deep breaths, he searched in his brain for the right word to describe the being. Long pointed ears, face long hair, smooth facial features but fangs peaking out of the mouth. A high stand, long delicate features but strong statue._ _

__“Elbe.”_ _

__The man jerked, eyes blown wide. What was he so scared for?_ _

__“ _Du sprichst?!_ ” _ _

__The _Elbe_ said something but he couldn’t understand him, had never learned their language, never gotten a reason to. Maybe he was asked something? Instead of answering he stared at the man, seeing how shaken up the other was. It was mildly amusing even in such circumstances. _ _

__“I can not understand.” He whispered but groaned at his own voice, had he not used it in a long time. It sounded rough, the words of his own language sounded like it wasn’t his. What had he become?_ _

__Instead of trying to talk with him again – they were obviously not able to speak the same language – the man slowly stood up and just then did he notice. The Elbe was holding something, it looked like the thing he was lying on but it was wet? He could hear the drops of water hitting the wooden planks. The longing for the few drops washed over him and almost had he tried to grab for the thing._ _

__Gulping and with great shaking came the other closer. He had no strength to fight the Elbe anyway so he let him step closer, placing the wet thing over his bottom and he let out a sigh in relieve. The water immediately run dropped down on him and his body relished in the feeling, it had been so long since he had last felt water on his body. Felt the pearl of live sinking into his greedy body._ _

__Stepping away from him, the Elbe regarded him once, shortly before he looked towards the door, then back to him. Something laid in the other’s eyes, a flicker of emotions._ _

__“ _Ich komme zurück, mit jemand anderem, okay? Halte durch._ “ _ _

__Whatever the other was saying, he understood the intent, the way the words where softly spoken and with great care. That whatever the Elbe would be doing, it wasn’t something bad for him. So he nodded, thinking a nod must be an universal language and that he was understood._ _

__Hurried and with a last glance at him did the Elbe vanish outside of the door, closing it behind him. He was alone again. Slowly but surely he felt how his energy came back to his body after he laid on the soft thing for what seemed ages, the water doing greatly at restoring a minimum from what he had lost. His scales tingled at feeling of being exposed to water, to something more than the water he had been given to drink. Forced to drink. How long he had waited for this, had feared he would die before he could feel water for the last time._ _

__His tail flickered, snapped a little in a way to figure out how much energy he had gained back but it wasn’t nearly enough to lift the thing up which laid over it. But he could move his hands he found out. So he stretched himself, tried to pull his lower body as close as possible. He reached the thing, shivering when his naked fingers came in contact with it, feeling how the cold water immediately clung to his body like it had always been. How he wished he could dive back into the ocean, to feel the ocean current guiding his body to places he had yet to discover. See the fish floating through the crystal clear water, making the never ending ocean sprinkled in most beautiful colors. Watch the sun set, seeing the last rays of golden braking through the surface before it vanished where he won’t be able to see it no longer. Wanted to see the people he had grown up with – but that was a wish only death could grant him._ _

__So he idly laid, at one point falling asleep. His body finally getting back from what it had been robbed for so long. Under the heavy weight of the water, which pressed so comfortably against his tail, he slept deep. Until he jerked up, sleep drunken blinking at what had awaken him from his slumber._ _

__A man, not as tall as the Elbe, stood inside of the door and watched him. What he noticed first was the hair, a shade so bright it seemed to blind his eyes, a color richer than he had ever seen before. It was as red as the shade of the sky when the sun sat but unlike the Elbe this man had no prominent features. Had no pointed ears, no fangs, gills, horns or anything that would possibly give away the heritage. However, the eyes watching him were different, something he had never seen before. Partially they were brown but there was a color inside of them he found breathtaking, so intensive and piercing – a vibrant orange, complementing the shining red of his hair. A red of such brightness, it was challenging the nightly sky when the sun was about to set. Surreal. He had never seen someone on land with such hair and eyes. It was as if he was the embodiment of a sunset._ _

__Why was a human standing there, watching him with unchanged interest. Had humans not always feared the wide sea? The monsters like him living within their deepest fear: the unknown. Yet there he stood, the human with hair colored like the pre-nightly sky and a body clearly not build for an adventure on sea. The man looked so fragile._ _

__“Hello.”_ _

__The human’s voice was rough but not as deep as he had expected, not as angered as he had every right to be. Not threatening – not yet._ _

__“Hello.”_ _

__He whispered back, saw how a small, minuscular smile went over the other’s lips before it disappeared again. Fear went through his mind, his heart thumbing painfully at ribcage. His gills must have been flopping like crazy because he was on a none-water based ground and would lose every fight he could potentially be wrapped into._ _

__“I’m glad you haven’t died just yet, sweetheart.”_ _

__The human chuckled, closing the door behind him after he had stepped inside. He regarded the human, tried to see if he had malicious intentions towards him. The body language seemed none threatening but he kept his guard up nonetheless, humans couldn’t be trusted. He had learned that the hard way._ _

__“We speak the same language-“_ _

__“I learned the language of the sea folks some time ago.” The man chuckled, pulling something he had seen but hadn’t been sure what it was. Apparently land creatures could sit on it. No one had taught him that. “Can you understand me well?”_ _

__“Better than the Elbe who had come to me prior.” He said, recalling the shocked expression. It surely was amusing._ _

__“Elbe?” The red haired wondered, looking confused at his words. “That is a word I’m not familiar with but when you say previously visited, you must mean Keonhee. The sea folks who taught me said you called them elves.”_ _

__“Elves? Possible.”_ _

__Maybe he had been gone longer than he had expected, or the human had learned somewhere far away. Very far away, another ocean maybe._ _

__He regarded the man who sat next to him, who seemed to have all the time in the world and for a while they plainly stared at each other. Until the human’s gaze flickered towards his tail before catching his eyes again. Was that care in the man’s eyes?_ _

__“Is the blanket still wet?”_ _

__His eyes widened. A word he had never heard but it sounded like it came form _his_ language. _ _

__“Bl-bla-“_ _

__“Blanket. It is a pretty new word, the sea folks said they had to make it up because you have nothing similar inside of the wide oceans. The blanket is the soft fabric which is over your tail.” The human gestured to the now not as wet _blanket_ anymore and he had to gasp, surprised. “You looked – how do I say this?” _ _

__The human wondered, rubbing his chin._ _

__“Dehydrated?” He gave the word, almost certain it was what the man was searching for. Sea folks could live for period of time without water but most die when it is to long. They dehydrate like any other sea creature does because they need water to live, to survive, it was essential. He can already guess how bad he must have looked when these – what where they, a elf and a human are certainly not a crew – man had found him?_ _

__Thoughts of his brothers and sisters came to mind, the people who had lost their lives because they hadn’t been strong enough, couldn’t endure what he could. It pained him. Lost so many, unreplaceable souls to the hands of greedy humans. Was this his fate? Escaping death once only to get edged again?_ _

__“Yes, dehydrated. We are currently working on a barrel big enough for you to lie inside, wait a little longer. I hope this way can at least milden the pain.” He looked at the sun colored man in confusion. The human had the audacity to laugh at him. “Think of a barrel as a big seashell, they are usually not large enough for a person to really move inside of, so we have someone working on a solution for you.”_ _

__He had to close his eyes. Was this man proposing the idea of help? That he, and whoever was on this ship, where there to help him? Wouldn’t let him die? It seemed like a wild thought, one his fellow friends had laughed at if they would haver heard him say such words. A human helping a merman. Sounding like a far fetched dream he had never dared to dream. What was wrong with this man._ _

__“Why.” Was all he could rasp out, his eyes barely open to muster the human._ _

__“Explaining it to you in your weakened state wouldn’t make sense, sweetheart. Regain your strength and then we talk. I promise you, we won’t hurt you.”_ _

__“How can I be sure, how can I trust the words of a human?”_ _

__The man smiled. A dazzling smile. One he had never believed could be smiled by a human here he was, looking at him without any bad intent. Of course not all humans where bad, he knew as much but meeting one? Sounded like a fairy tale they would tell their children._ _

__“You don’t have to trust my words, I can understand if you don’t. Just keep my words in mind.” A hand swept through the red hair and he had to gulp at the sight, wondering where the faster beat of his heart was coming from. “My name is Hongjoong and I’m a pirate.”_ _

__

__And Hongjoong hadn’t lied to him. Approximately one day apart, if the meals they got him were an indicator, until he saw the man again but no one had hurt him, touched him, dared to break the man’s words up to his arrival. The elf, now known as Keonhee, had swapped the blanket three times for him but not muttered a word again. If he was ordered to keep silent, possibly but when he looked at the poor elf he knew it was the fear from him that kept the man away from speaking. Why he, a merman, was something to be scared of? He didn’t understand but surely he wasn’t aware of the tales earth creatures where telling themselves._ _

__Hongjoong had stepped in and smiled. He wasn’t sure why but seeing the human had lighten up his mood even if it was just lightly. Maybe it was gentleness with which he was picked up, an arm under his back and one under his tail and he wondered why he seemed to careful. So thoughtful. He was walked out of the room with easiness, one arm had looped around the human’s neck while the other was pressed against the chest._ _

__Beneath his palms he felt the steady heartbeat of the human. It felt… interesting._ _

__With a curious mind he watched the path they followed, saw different people walking past them, stopping to talk to Hongjoong or to watch then curiously. He could understand why – a merman getting carried by a human? Nothing anyone had ever spoken of, almost like a fairy tale._ _

__Much to his surprise he was carried yet through another door but the room behind it was bigger, had more inside than the previous one. Whatever he saw, he had no words for them, could only describe them as he saw them. Long, carved woods and objects he had seen fallen into the ocean wavers but never learned their meanings._ _

__What he could interpret was the big round wooden planks filled with water. The barrel, he thought. And he was right, next to the long wooden object was the barrel and he was slowly placed inside._ _

__As soon as he was in the water up until his waist, he let Hongjoong go and splashed into the cold rich water which surrounded him immediately. Head down, body completely engulfed. It had been so long since he had last felt so much water, since he had felt so free. It was as if the water had welcomed him back after such a long time, caressed his back and hugged him, holding him close. He had missed this._ _

__But he came up again, much slower than he had fallen into and when his head broke the water surface, his eyes stayed slightly above the water level. Two curious eyes where watching him and if he could interpret it right – which was difficult since Hongjoong is a human and humans are weird – he would say the other looked at him rather fondly._ _

__Weird. Humans are weird._ _

__“Enjoying yourself?” The man laughed when he caught him staring back. He only hummed, hoping the other was able to hear it. “I’m glad you do, I was afraid it might not be enough since I can’t provide the ocean for you.”_ _

__“Why not.” It was a simple question but he saw the red haired man gulp._ _

__“Let’s not talk about this right now.”_ _

__So the other didn’t want to talk about it. At least he was alive and was fed, not starved like previous. For now he would drop the topic but one day he wanted to go back to the ocean, to hear it whisper inside of his heart and against his ear. Instead he pushed himself up on the edge of the barrel, his tail still touching the ground. Leaning his head to the side, he mustered the man once more._ _

__“Where am I?” Because he wanted to know, was he yet again on a ship for slavery? It didn’t seem like it. He had to be careful nonetheless._ _

__“On a ship?” Hongjoong joked but when he wasn’t laughing with him, did the human sober up and gazed at him. “You knew as much, right. It’s time to introduce myself, isn’t it._ _

__“My name is Hongjoong the eagle, I am, indeed, a pirate. The ship you are on belongs to the great elf queen Rosé, we are sailing the ocean under her flag.”_ _

__A pirate… working for someone besides himself? Was that even possible? He had never heard about such a case, only heard rumors about the ruthless and merciless natures of pirates. Horrible man searched the sea for treasures, killing whoever came into their way, man and woman alike. Stealing everything valuable, capturing ships and burning them down if they were of no use. The life of a creature meant nothing to them. Blood spilled over their hands, keeping them alive like water but it was filled with the live of countless deaths._ _

__Was Hongjoong such a man?_ _

__“Lie.”_ _

__“I’m not lying.” The man shock his head, slowly walking around the barrel to the long wooden object he had greatly ignored until now. Hongjoong sat down, lying his arms on top of it, turning his body so he was able to speak freely with him. “I don’t know what you know about pirates but most of it is true. We know no boundaries and no rest, we always search for more and we spill blood more often than not. It is our job and we don’t fear anything, not even the sea.”_ _

__“Why am I not dead then?” He asked, voice small. His fingers where shaking, his body automatically drifting deeper into the water in search for the familiarity he needed. Maybe soon his blood would color the water._ _

__“Killing you would be very stupid, wouldn’t it?” Hongjoong laughed loudly and he felt how his ears heated up a little. This mans laugh shock his body deeply and he didn’t like it. “If I would do something logical in this situation with you, I would sell you on the next market to the highest price I could get. Which would be very high taking into account how beautiful you are and the absolute mesmerizing color your tail possesses.” His white tail with the faintest golden shimmer jerked at the mention of it. The human stretched his hand and he couldn’t do anything, stayed frozen, not wanting to possibly anger him. “But I won’t do that.”_ _

__He gulped. Warm fingers ghosted over his jawline, brushed against his cheek, tugged his hair behind his ear. It felt so wrong, having a human touching his skin but he couldn’t stop the goosebumps running all over his body. He wanted to ask what the pirate meant with not selling him but he was afraid of the answer, possible scenarios running through his mind. This man could do whatever he wanted with him because he had disadvantages outside of his home. How he could end up used again and again, past memories flooding back._ _

__It was hard for him to admit that he was afraid, where merman normally fearless and strong, however, who was he in the hands of a human? Nothing more than a slave, a prisoner at best._ _

__“You won’t-“_ _

__“I won’t-“_ _

__“-but what do you want with me then, if it isn’t gold or any other payment.”_ _

__“I will explain it to you, just not now. Can you wait a bit, little star?”_ _

__

__So he waited. If felt like an eternity. Here he was, sitting in his little barrel day and night and waited for something interesting to happen. Most of the time Hongjoong was with him, working on the table as he had explained one day. Over the course of the days he had learned many new words in his language he had never known existed. Paper was the object Hongjoong used to write on, while writing was a way to deliver words in a non-speaking form. It was still hard to grasp how that was possible but the other did it with ease so there must be truth to it._ _

__He also learned that the room he was in belonged to Hongjoong, given the space and the objects inside, he had already assumed it. Was the human not often here and only left for duties on deck, sleeping at night not far from him and even wishing him a good night’s rest. Hongjoong was the captain of a ship full with elves and other creatures – a human above all. That had a weird ring to it but he accepted the fact. Not that he could change anything._ _

__Twice a day he got food and once every few days they got him fresh water, always trying to make him comfortable. Which was weird. Why would they? Hongjoong said he had a reason he hadn’t shared yet and it irked him. Especially since the day he had gotten to know that Hongjoong was merciless. They had raided a trading ship – he had heard the pained cries, their bagging to be spared only to meet deaf ears. Cursed shall be his ears, picking up all these sounds meters away from him through wood and more wood, travelling over the ocean._ _

__Hongjoong had stepped back inside, clothes over and over sprinkled with blood which didn’t seem to be his own, droplets of red staining the ground beneath him. He was afraid, immediately hiding underneath the water surface, scared of what he might see if he resurfaced. Afraid of what monster he had to face when he saw Hongjoong again.  
But Hongjoong was as always – friendly. Of course the pirate knew that he had heard it and sawn him with the blood decorating his body but he didn’t bring it up, let it wash away with the waves hitting his ship. As if it never happened. _ _

__Until one day they couldn’t act as if nothing happened. As if he wasn’t still imprisoned in this ship without further explanation. Not when a woman came inside without addressing Hongjoong at all – which was weird since every crew member did so – and went straight for him instead for the human. She practically fell next to his barrel and in his surprise he pressed himself on the opposite end of it, surprised at her weird behavior. Another human he assumed in the way she looked at him, in what her outer appearance made her look like._ _

__“Oh, he is.” She almost shrieked, reaching for him in her ecstatic mood. Without a second he splashed his tail, making water hitting her and she fell back on her back, laughing like a maniac. Humans are weird. Subconsciously he searched for Hongjoong who looked at him apologetic and he hated it, hated the fact that he wanted to see if the pirate was still there, holding his promise of keeping him safe._ _

__“Eunbin, can you not?” Was all the pirate said, stepping up beside him and laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He shivered at the warm hand on his slick body. It felt wrong._ _

__“How could I? Your darling, look at him!” The girl, Eunbin, pointed first at Hongjoong and then at him, the pure excitement vivid in her deep brown eyes. “As beautiful, no, even more than I had seen him! Such flawless features, such prominent collarbones – look at this godly looking tail!”_ _

__Hongjoong muttered something under his breath and even though he understood nothing, did he search for human’s touch more. It didn’t matter to him that this woman could also speak his language, no, it was the way she was talking about him that made him wary of her. Something felt wrong about her, about the way Eunbin stared at him with such a determination, he wanted nothing more than to disappear out of her sight._ _

__“I am not frightening him! Right?” She asked sweetly and looked at him but he looked at Hongjoong instead. Could the pirate not make her go away? Her overly enthusiasm scared him._ _

__“You do, Eunbin, will you control yourself.” Hongjoong sounded angry, sounded scary. It was the first time he had heard the human like this. “He is still unaware.”_ _

__Unaware? Now he gazed up at Hongjoong and said one looked back, in his eyes an apologetic gaze. So this was about why he was still there. Gulping he looked back at the woman, saw her disappointment and wondered why. Was there a reason for her to be disappointed?_ _

__“No word, no gesture? Nothing?” Yeah, she sounded sad._ _

__“I wasn’t sure, you just said merman. That is not really specific.” Hongjoong argued back._ _

__“I told you, imprisoned on a ship without a crew a godly merman waiting for you.” She pointed at him but talked to Hongjoong. “Him. You see it, I see it. No, I feel it. The red string you two have, bound together no matter what, can you not feel it?”_ _

__Hongjoong sighs. He was confused, the woman was talking in a weird manner, phrasing it in a way he felt his head pound just by thinking about it. But he told himself to calm down, to take a deep breath. Then he noticed her words. Red string? Which bound them together? He felt completely lost. What was this woman talking about?_ _

__There was no red string on his body and neither on Hongjoong’s as far as he knew. Or was there?_ _

__“Right, good you confirmed it. Leave now. I will explain it to him.”_ _

__“What?” She stretched the word, sounded offended. “But it was I who found out, yet you will not let me talk? Unfair.”_ _

__“Witch, get out.”_ _

__Hongjoong drew a sword which had been placed at his hip, holding it into Eunbin’s direction. She seemed not to be fazed by his threat and only whined before standing up. Until she stood her eyes never left his, in them a twinkle of knowledge. A dangerous twinkle._ _

__“I will leave but with me will leave the possibility of escaping fate. You shall never see me again, my dear pirate but remember my words. A soul always resonates, no matter how many life’s it had circled.” She bowed, her brown hair almost falling into his water. When Eunbin lifted her head again, she smiled. It looked sinister. “Farwell merman, I wish you the best.”_ _

__Without regarding them another look she walked around his barrel, up to the door and vanished through it, the door softly falling back into place behind her. He tried to listen for her steps, for her heartbeat but both faded with the sound of the ocean calling him. As if she had never been onboard._ _

__“Witches and their weird behavior. Who will ever understand them.”_ _

__Hongjoong muttered and his gaze snapped back to the man still standing next to him, the warm hand on his shoulder had never left. He jerked away from the pirate, regarding him. It all was too much for him. Red string? Escaping fate? A witch foreseeing the future? When he had once swum in the ocean he had never expected his life to turn out this way._ _

__“Don’t be scared of me.”_ _

__“How can I not be?” He argued back, pulling his tail closer, looping his arms around his torso. “You pointed a sword at an unarmed person.”_ _

__“She was different.”_ _

__“I am too.”_ _

__“That is true but you are different in another way.” The human had to sigh once again and sat down. Hongjoong suddenly seemed older, more worn out than before. Dark circles underneath his eyes he hadn’t spotted earlier, skin looking a little ashen. “If I explain it to you, can you promise me to listen?”_ _

__“What if I don’t?” He asked truly curious._ _

__“Then I would keep you in there for all of my life without explanation.”_ _

__“Then explain human.”_ _

__Because he was sick of it. First human’s had raided their home, killed countless and kidnapped many. Made them into slaves, sold them on markets, some even eat them. Then he was left on a ship where the crew had first gone insane and then killed themselves because of their insanity. The other sea folks had died within days, leaving him alone to either starve first or go insane later._ _

__Until Hongjoong and his crew had saved him, only to imprison him again. They cared for his health but no one answered his questions on why. All he could do was wait. Let other creatures rule over his life, decide on how he would live it._ _

__Maybe he was done with being scared, maybe it was a sudden change of emotion but what was there to lose? Nothing. No one was waiting for him. So why not fight for his freedom. For an explanation so he could at least understand his current situation._ _

__“The witch, Eunbin, she came to me one day when I was at port Aurora.” Hongjoong leaned back, eyes trained on him. His heart weirdly shook at his gaze. “Everyone knows who I am, Hongjoong the eagle is a wide spread name. Some call me the pirate king.”_ _

__Pirate king? A man like Hongjoong? He could hardly imagine but he had seen, no heard, him leading his crew into a battle and saw how he came out of it. Unharmed with clothes drenched in other’s blood. Maybe a pirate king meant more than brute force, Hongjoong seemed like a rather intelligent human._ _

__“She told me about a merman being connected with my life. I was about to shut her up when she told me things I never shared with anyone, no one could have known. I had to believe her words. It was like a bad omen, words hanging over my head for weeks.” The human looked at the ceiling, remembering, then looked back at him. The orange hue of his eyes sparked dangerously. “Told me I would fine the important part of my life in an abandoned ship. I found you. We were destined to meet, weaved by the universe to met and be close.” He shook his head, not believing a word. A human and a merman destined to be with each other? Unheard of. “When my crew said they found you, I was arguing with myself if I should kill you but when I saw you, I couldn’t anymore. I was drawn to you from the very first moment.”_ _

__Now he was shaking. Not because of fear but because of anger. How could humans be so selfish to decide over his life, say something was real without knowledge of anything. Assuming he would go along with it?_ _

__“That’s why I can’t let you go back to the sea, not until I trust you to not disappear when I let you in. You belong to me, in a higher sense.”_ _

__“I belong to no one.”_ _

__“You feel it too, the tingling in your body when I touched you. The heat inside of your heart when I look at you. I know you do.”_ _

__He got angrier with every word because he was right. He felt it, felt these emotions but not because he wanted to. Was he really destined to such a future? To be kept, owned and only released when the other one deemed it fine?_ _

__“What if I don’t want this, human?”_ _

__“You will, eventually. Eunbin said so.”_ _

__

__With days passing, he found out that both Hongjoong and the witch had said the truth. He had stayed mad at the pirate for days, however, at some point he found himself awaiting the humans return when he went out, seeking his close proximity when Hongjoong tried to approach him._ _

__He was weak, he became weak. His friends would have laughed at him._ _

__Accepting the truth was hard. It occupied his thoughts in every awake thought and manifested in his nightly dreams. In a few he was human, searching for the elder man, in other’s he saved the pirate from drowning only to fall for him. In other’s he was something totally different and Hongjoong looked different, smelled different, tasted different – seemed to be another person. But underneath it was ultimately the Hongjoong he had gotten to know, he could feel it every time._ _

__Which gave him to wonder. Why would he think about Hongjoong in other appearances? It made no sense._ _

__Not when Hongjoong leaned down to him and pressed kisses over his face, holding him still and he could do nothing than accept what was given to him. He enjoyed it. It pained him but it was the truth. Him actively seeking for Hongjoong. Him enjoying when they talked, when the human told him everything he had done the day and done before they had met. Listening to his soothing voice when he explained boring diplomatic things he had to arrange with the queen he was sailing the seas for._ _

__Until one day, nothing was like before. He had slept after long talk with the pirate, had fallen asleep with the image of a bright sun embodied in his mind. Jerked awake in the middle of the night, no light source was aiding him but with his vision he saw the human sleeping not far from him but he couldn’t be possibly farther. His mind was clouded, his head hurting from the sheer amount of information which had suddenly flooded back to him. From memories resurfacing._ _

__It hurts – his body hurts. Everything seemed so heavy he feared to drown. How could he drown, the water was his element, still it burned his skin, drilled into him like a stake into a dead body. He loved water but his previous life’s told him otherwise, mirrored all his feelings, fears he had experienced prior overlapping with the ones he had now.  
He blacked out, found himself later awake in the arms of Hongjoong, who had come inside of his barrel and held him closely. He shivered at the touch, at feeling of safety within the humans arms. Enjoying a touch which was so familiar he wished nothing else to feel until he was to wither away._ _

__The pain had subdued, vanished with the hours and the sun yet rising to great another day, however, the memories stayed, burned into his mind. He found himself unable to forget what he had sawn, what he remembered so vividly._ _

__Hongjoong had later told him he hadn’t been able to wake him up and afraid what that could mean, had him hold him until he would wake up. The human soaked to the bones, clothes disgustingly sticking to his body but Hongjoong hadn’t minded, just wanted to be sure he was okay._ _

__He never told him he wasn’t okay, that in fact he knew way too much to handle – that he knew how their lives would end._ _

__That Eunbin was right, they couldn’t escape fate, not when it was already set into motion._ _

__Their end was undeniably coming for them. And Hongjoong had no idea._ _

__The human lived on, watching more intently but never noticing the hidden truth. Maybe, and only because he knew what would await them, did he allow Hongjoong do what he wanted. Which ended in them kissing more often than not, Hongjoong staying inside of his barrel sometimes with clothes and sometimes without. He felt loved by a human, which was weird in itself, staying with one even more. But he let Hongjoong do what he felt like doing because he knew how short lived this was, how soon everything would come to an end. That their life together would come to an end because it always did, no matter where and when._ _

__In the end it was a hot day, not yet summer when Hongjoong had walked in, looking exhausted but happy when he saw him. He had prepared himself every day, every wake minute for the one opportunity he had to strike when given. And the opportunity came up in a rather blunt way._ _

__The pirate had with everything on him fallen into his barrel, the water dangerously leaking over the edges and he had to hold the man up before he could knock his head against it. Hongjoong was delirious, not drunk – like he had seen him countless times – but rather from the burning sun up on deck. It was his chance._ _

__“Hey beautiful, I missed you.” Hongjoong whispered into his ear when he had draped himself over his tail, towering above him. Placing both of his hands on his chest, did the human began to nibble on his sensitive neck, making him erupt in sinful moans. Just the way the pirate liked it. Let the elder roam his body to his liking, not fighting back._ _

__Instead he let his arms glide over the pirate’s shoulder down his sides, feeling the strong muscles around his stomach. Where they different people, had they a different fate, he might have been able to enjoy it but all he could do was accept it._ _

__Hongjoong’s lips captures his and they kissed leisurely, heated – demanding. He allowed him to feel this ecstasy a little longer._ _

__Maybe he was sorry after all, had feelings in the end._ _

__But when Hongjoong coughed into their kiss, groaning before violently shaking, he felt nothing but remorse because it had to end the way it always ended. Their life had been set up from the very beginning to not function._ _

__“Why?”_ _

__The pirate coughed out, red sprinkles decorating now his chest and drops of red streaming past the pirate’s lips. He twisted it. Another shudder went through the human.  
“It was uninventable, it’s for the best.” _ _

__Hongjoong collapsed in his arms, looking up at him. Their eyes danced a silent battle of longing and understanding; of hatred and love. Until the human’s eyelids fluttered shut, his breath slowly evening out. The water around them gradually turning red in color._ _

__“Our life together was over before it started, yet you never knew how right Eunbin had been.”_ _

__Only when he felt the last heartbeat echoing back from inside of the human’s body, everything else turning silent, he pulled out the sword he had previously taken out of the pirate’s sheath. Watching how the water immediately washed the blood away as if it had never been there._ _

__With a last glance at the man in his arms did he pierce his own chest, right into his painfully beating heart. Gasped at the intruding painful feeling but accepted it, did not fight it. Felt how blood begun to gush out, mixing their colors in the water._ _

__With fading vision he slowly collapsed, pulling his pirate closer one last time, feeling the last present heat radiating off of it. Before he could understand, his life had faded as well, joined the other on their last way._ _

__On his lips one last sentence, meant for the dead._ _

__“I love you my _sin_.” _ _

__-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈_ _

__Yeosang bolted awake. He remembered everything. Remembered enough to finally piece everything together._ _

__He scrambled off the chair, completely ignoring the yet again worried maids and sprinted down the hallway once more, his magic reaching out and searching through the mansion for a specific person._ _

__Yeosang didn’t made it far, ran into the person he was searching for almost immediately._ _

__Youngjo looked at him in shock but got out of his trance fast, holding Yeosang by his arms._ _

__“I know who was in your room.”_ _

__“I know now why this is happening to me.”_ _

__The had spoken at the same, realization dawning on them._ _

__This was running deeper than anything they had expected._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always every form of respons is great and motivating :) ♡


	7. Despise the sin but love the sinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back? Kinda!
> 
> I had a break because I wasn't feeling well mentally and now I'm kinda back but I can't promise to update regularly since I drive to my school campus in two days. And I met people there I have only met through online school so far. My free time might be consumed by them. We'll see.
> 
> Anyways. This is not a very long chapter but it is packed with new information so I thought it's better to not make it too long. ^^ Also like the last part of the story isn't edited yet, I will do that the following days.
> 
> I could warn certain tags this time but I won't. I won't spoil anything. :)

Nothingness surrounded him, engulfed his weak, trembling form like a blanket, smooth against his body was it like a warm bed, lulling him in. It was heavy, whatever lied over his form, pulled him down, stopping every possible movement. It brought no pain. It felt indifferent, not to describe. A far away feeling.

He felt weak, was unable to open his eyes, to reach out or try to understand the situation – could only see the dancing figures behind his closed eyelids. Figures of color, every possible shade and form, with different purposes to fulfill. See them glow, twinkles of gold and silver falling down, sprinkling on the way down until no light illuminated them anymore. Fading into the dark, blending as if they had never existed. Some of them had faces, so similar to real ones he could never difference them while other’s had none at all. No expression. No eyes, noses, ears. Just a plain white canvas. But they weren’t scary. The aura they emitted calmed his nerves, made him forget the shadows around him. Mind and soul solely focused on them. Bathing in the low shine and feeling calm with watching the twinkles disappear. 

And he could only watch them, never understand. Didn’t understand their purpose, the reason why there were there and showing themselves. Why he saw them. Saw these figures then glowing in white, moving up once than fast down, one moment on the right and the next one on the left. A dance he had no knowledge of but found mesmerizing, eyes trying to follow. Too fast to see it well, his brain not capable to comprehend, however, still drawn to them nonetheless. He tried to reach out, to grab these figures but his body was too weak to listen. Wouldn’t even lift an arm nor a finger. They seemed to slip past his eyes, dancing around his face but never too close, teasing him that he couldn’t reach them. Never losing their smooth moves. 

But then, the scene changed. The once bright figures dimmed, lost their color – until they had faded completely, drained of their once diverse scheme. Now they merged with the black background, the nothingness seemed to swallow them whole, them almost disappearing in it. His eyes quickly looking left and right. He tried to watch, to look out for those figures who seemed to hide from him now, tried to differentiate them from the black void around everything. 

And he could. It weren’t obvious characteristics like they had previously owned, no, now it was the just barely existing difference in shade of black – or dark gray. His eyes barely able to seem them in the black void. Until it wasn’t just black and gray anymore but so much more. Red, violet, blue. Dark shades, similar but different. And not only this had changed. 

They had changed too.

The figures who had once danced, flourished and at work seemed still, frozen almost. Their demeanor had changed. They weren’t doing what they did anymore, forgotten what they had once enjoyed in front of his eyes. 

Now they were watching him. Eyes once fully black now slowly fading into a deep red, shaped like diamonds but it seemed like they were melting. Dropping the red liquid slowly. Drop after drop. Plain bodies now colored with stripes, patterns he had never seen before, the red pulsating. 

And they were coming closer. The figures who once had kept their distance where now closing in on him until they were right in front, silhouettes so close that he could feel their presences. Dark hands trying to reach for him, pulsating shadows coming closer, vibrating and merging with the darkness. 

Jerking up, a deafening scream echoed back from the walls. Hands scrambling to find hold, sweat running down the heated skin, eyes searching the room in a hectic way. Breathing erratic, reality mixing with illusions – shadows looming over him, pushing him down. Fingers trying to get a hold, to tear and pull. 

His vision blurred, not able to concentrate, to see what really was in front of him. Just saw the blackness thickening, starting to surrounded him and he felt like he was in a loop, had he not dreamed about it prior; so was it chasing him now and he was slowly running out of breath. His body was weak, couldn’t fight the slender fingers brushing over his body, turn away from the nails clawing over his skin and their blackness seemingly trying to invade him. To reach inside every crack. 

To find a way inside. 

To get access to depths he had no knowledge of, closing their fingers around something. Anything they could grasp. Trying to reach and own, and he could do nothing against it, only watch with fear how the shadows came closer, more and more of them. How they touched him where his skin seemed to disappear beneath a wobbly, inconsistent form.

Underneath something so cold – it made him feel empty. So incredible empty. But oh so full at the same time. It was, as if the touch was trying to fill the void with something, with a feeling he hadn’t known before but was experiencing it now. His mind, without his consent, trying to reach, to grasp for whatever the shadows where trying to feed him, to engulf him in what could fill the void he felt. 

It felt wrong, but oh so right. 

A feeling he wanted to chase, which gave his body energy back, the weakening state suddenly gone as if it had never happened. And the hands seemed to be enjoyed over his reaction but never left his body, still dug deeper into him. Trying to reach deeper points, to fill him with more and more. 

His soul tried to object, to fight back the void creeping in and push it away. 

And it did. It wasn’t easy, the forces clashing inside of him powerful and trying to win over. Possible to tear him apart if they went against each other for much longer. He struggled, not knowing if he should accept or fight back. Didn’t understand what’s right or wrong. Wasn’t able decipher how to escape the fate. 

“Do you start? Or shall I?” Yeosang said, trying to keep his calm. His mentor knows who had been in his room? He wondered how he could have possibly found that out. Or more like, why he was now ready to disclose information the elder had previously held back. What had changed. 

Vibrating himself with the information he had found out, wanting to share and finally get a second opinion on it. No, not found out – remembered. What Yeosang had seen once again in a dream, what he had lived through prior and now could see in front of his eyes again. The memories his brain had dig up again and where slapped into his face. 

Youngjo seemed to be out of breath, had apparently run his way up to find Yeosang. It must have been a severe discovery if his mentor would run all the way to him. If the glistering in his eyes where a giveaway, Yeosang would say his mentor wasn’t liking the discovery very much. 

“Maybe you should start-“ Youngjo said out of breath, gasping for air, “-my information might make more sense when I heard what you found out. An old man needs a moment to breath here.” 

That seemed plausible. The discovery might seem random to Youngjo know but with Yeosang’s context it would make more sense. Or so they apparently hoped. Yeosang really hoped he could finally get behind everything. 

“I do not even know where to start.” 

Because he didn’t. Everything seemed so farfetched, so unlikely. But his memories told him this was the truth and he never dismissed his perfect memory. He wouldn’t start now. No matter how heartbreaking the memory might be and how much he wished it was a fantasy, nothing more than a mere dream, he knew it wasn’t. It had been real.  
“I saw one of my prior lifetimes again.” 

“Again? I thought I told you to stay from everything that could potentially trigger it!” Youngjo seemed annoyed at him, his eyebrows furrowed but behind his words where no real bite. 

“I fell asleep with the maids around me. I was tired, nothing I could have done against it, or do you not wish for me to sleep?” 

The elder muttered an ‘of course I do’ under his breath before he nodded, signaling him to continue his story. Quirking an eyebrow he looked at his mentor with skepticism but continued anyway. 

“Falling asleep send me back into one of my lifetimes and weirdly enough, I was not a human but a merman. Is that even possible?” He asked genuinely curious. 

“But of course! Humans merely forgot many living creatures of nature and declared them as myths at some point. They existed the same way we are existing right now. How unicorns are still out there in the forests and vampires hiding in the darkness.” 

“Then I must have been truly a merman. You will not believe how intense this memories where. The sea was calling me, I felt it in every bone and every fiber of my body. It was like the sea was a part of me. My tail was the purest white but it shimmered in the most mesmerizing gold.” He stopped, looking down on himself, remembering the white merman tail he had possessed once. “But my life was not a happy one.”

“You died again?” 

“Do we not all die at some point?” 

“Yeosang, for god’s sake, stop trying to philosophize now. We have more important matters at hand.” 

Yeosang had to laugh because he was right but the situation still seemed so unlikely, how could he not laugh? Trying to lift the mood with a little joke. 

“I was found before I almost died on a slavery ship where everyone had committed suicide. They went insane, killed others before ending their own lives. The slaves where left to rot away. A pirate ship found me before I dehydrated. The captain was a pirate named Hongjoong the eagle, known as the-“

“Pirate king.” 

“You know him?” Yeosang was surprised, hadn’t believed Youngjo would know him. 

“I do. He was buccaneer under the name of the fairy queen Rosé, which was the strongest queen in all of fairy history. She lost great territory when the news got around that the pirate king had died in battle. No one had previously ever tried to battle her seas, just the dumb ones did. Without him where her territory on the sea practically completely gone.” 

“He did not die in a battle. Not directly.”

“What? What do you mean?” 

He had to take a deep breath. How could he potentially explain everything he now knows without breaking down while doing so. Without his memories crashing him, burying him alive in his doubt and anxiety. Under the heavy burden that he had killed, took a live with the intend to do so. And that it was most likely not the first time. Yeosang felt a shudder go through his body at the thought. 

“I killed him.” 

If Youngjo had been annoyed with him before, now he was definitely shocked. More than shocked. He seemed to be shaken up to his core. Not that Yeosang hadn’t been shocked himself, had he not seen himself as someone who could end someone else’s life just like that. His past self had been braver, stronger, mature. Had experienced more, lived through more hardships than he had in this lifetime. Got into situations where it was a decision of life and death. 

“But I had to, we were destined to die, there was no way around it.” 

It was like a clock ticking inside of his mind, ticking down every minute until the last one would be count. One step closer to his last breath, so vividly in front of his eyes, did the time started to run out. The last sand corns running through the small space, the hourglass slowly coming to an end and being flipped over again. Time ticking, breaths evening out. Fading away the way they had begun. No way to escape, nowhere to run. Unable to change the fact of everything starting over again. And again.

And Again.

“Hongjoong and I were bound to meet, to cross paths at some point or so I believe. A witch described it pretty well as _connected by a red string_. Or more like his soul his attached to mine.”

“Attached? What do you mean?” 

“We could have never lived peaceful, the end would have gotten us anywhere. No place on earth could have shielded us, hid us from the destiny awaiting us. He loved me unconditionally and I might not have been as affectionate but deep down I knew I felt the same. But then I remembered.” 

“Your past lifetimes?” 

Yeosang nodded, trying to calm his fast beating heart. Gulping down the knowledge of what he had to tell Youngjo. How to explain something unexplainable. 

“Yes, but all the ones I had remembered prior did not show up while I was a merman, so they must have been later, closer connected to this one. I remembered way earlier lifetimes. The problem is, I even remember the very first lifetime.” He looked down, feeling the hole grow inside of his heart. The place where once his heart had been felt so empty. “And it is something I would have preferred to not know.” 

“Why? Do not talk in riddles, Sang! I cannot see inside of your head, the only one capable of explaining it is you.” 

“We are connected by fate. Me and every person I ever felt love for. Do you remember Yunho? The doctor I had been with in my first memory? We were connected by this fate – the two vampires too. And do you know why? Because I did something wrong in my first lifetime. My wrong doing made me go through this cycle countless times. ” 

Yeosang’s legs began to buckle and with a heavy sigh he fell on his ass, his whole frame shaking from the truth. Because it would mean this lifetime might end soon too. 

“I was cursed and my partner in that life had been too. We had been cursed. Together.” 

“Cursed? By whom? Curses can be lifted!” 

“By an archangel.” 

San jerked up, the shadows which had surrounded him prior had disappeared, instead he saw a familiar face looking down on him in worry. But where was the darkness? Had it faded so fast he hadn’t registered it? Had it been _real_? Or an illusion? Nothing more than a dream?

“Lay down, San. Do not get up. Your complexion worries me, you are way to pale.” 

He tried to say something, anything but no sound left his throat, just a breathy cough followed his attempt. Instead he was pushed back into the soft cushions and San noticed that no darkness was left anymore, no figures close to him. Every trace of it being more than a dream were gone. 

Still, San felt weak. As if something had drained all of his lifeforce from him. Two worried eyes looked down on him, a forehead in wrinkles. 

“Do you remember anything?” 

Her voice was soft, almost too soft after the time he had gotten to know her. It had a reason why Yeosang liked her so much, had heard their exchanges. Seunghee’s warm fingers ghosted over his forehead, pushing the hair out of his eyes. San melted into the touch, seemed to be touched starved after what had happened earlier. Had it happened? His mind was too exhausted to make a good, reasonable explanation. 

“What- what do I remember?” His voice cracked. 

“How you got here? When I came, it was just you- I was not able to find your grandmother or anyone whom I know from this village. It is… eerily quiet.” 

San could only shake his head, wasn’t able to form any more words. But the bad feeling from _earlier_ came back in waves, crashing down on him. He remembered. 

Remembered the weird instance in the village, how wrong it felt before he had made it to his grandmother’s shop. The villagers looking at him. How she had come to him when he had blacked out. 

Where was she? Shouldn’t she be with him when he is unconscious? She would never leave his side, this was so unlike her. A behavior San didn’t know from her. 

“My- my grandmother.” He tried again, reaching out for the maid who reluctantly helped him to sit up. Body weak, trembling when their hands touched. “Not here?” 

“No.” She shook her head, just as worried as he was. “The door was open when I came here. With the village so empty I was worried and only found you here. Do you have any idea what is going on? Where your grandmother might be? You have been gone for over a day.” 

San jerked his head up, looking at the maid with a shocked expression.

“Over a day?!” 

“Yes? Have you slept ever since?” 

A bad feeling dawned on him. Had what he seen yesterday and today maybe not been an illusion? If it had been real, what would that mean for him? 

What was happening? 

Because something was wrong. Yeosang had been weird, ill since he came back. What happened with him was beyond San’s understanding but he knew it wasn’t good – hadn’t been since the beginning. 

Not once had San talked with Yeosang about it, talked about the bad feeling which had constantly been in the back of his mind, eating him away. That there had been something odd. Every time they had touched, San had been over the moon but dragged down at the same time. Loved the way Yeosang smiled, trying to hide his pain, to not worry him even further but how could he not worry? When Yeosang was the best thing in his life? The light he had always been searching for? 

What would he do without him? Nothing. Not anymore. So San would be lost if Yeosang disappeared, if whatever had him in his control was slowly killing him. 

“I-“ San was at a loss for words. What could he possibly say? “I did.” 

“Goodness gracious, what happened here?” Seunghee muttered, looking around.

San did the same, noticed the backroom his grandmother had usually used to sleep in. It was the same. Nothing had changed. The drawing San had done at the tender age of six was still hung up on the wall – a bad drawn white calla lily on a green sprinkled background. He had been careless with the few oils his grandmother had gifted him and it looked chaotic, a real mess. But she had never taken it down. 

All her books where still there, free from dust or any traces of their old age, tenderly cared for over all the years. The room looked neat, the same way his grandmother was; it had always been an organized and clean room. But something was out of place, he couldn’t say what it was. Couldn’t put his finger on it. Wasn’t able to locate the reason, the trigger of the feeling. 

Until he followed Seunghee’s eyes to an open book placed on her table, all alone with nothing around it, just a lonely book. The bad feeling worsened. This was so unlike her. Even in the most stressful situations would she never leave a book open. Seunghee, without asking, understood his intention and helped him up, guiding San slowly over to the table, her own steps a little unsure. 

San stumbled a little, almost fell against the table, Seunghee’s strong arms holding him up. With a short smile he thanked her before looking into the book – not daring to move it in the slightest. But he didn’t came far, felt his breath hitch just by seeing the first few words written on the page. Eyes widened when he skimmed the pages, took in the drawings matching the text. San had to gulp, to hold himself up against the table, felt how Seunghee tried to stabilize him but nothing could ever archive this. 

And he wondered: how much did his grandmother had known?

“Seunghee.” His voice trembled but he tried to make it sound hard. 

“Yes?” 

“Get Yeosang and- and Ravn if you can, maybe even Hwanwoong. Get everyone you know, everyone who can use abilities, a sorcerer or a witch, hybrids. Whoever is available. They need to come here. Fast!”

“But-“

“No but! We do not have time for this! Please!” 

Seunghee looked at him in shook, her inner conflict reflected on her face, mirrored in her eyes. However, they had no time for pointless arguments and Seunghee seemed to understand how serious he was. She nodded, walking over to the door before she turned around again.

“Please be careful while I am away. Whatever happened here, even I can feel that it is not gone yet.” 

“I try my best.” 

Was all he could reply because he couldn’t promise it. If the book he had just skimmed the pages over was right, then the feeling he had for so long would make sense. It would explain what happened in the village the day prior and to San when he was asleep. Or awake. He wasn’t sure how much had been an illusion and how much had been actually real. Maybe he wasn’t so keen to find out. 

San’s eyes followed Seunghee’s figure while she run out of the house and for a while he stood there, blankly looking after the spot she had occupied earlier. Unable to grasp what was happening around them. Desperate to find out the truth. 

He had always known his grandmother was a talented witch, that she explored fields for others way to dangerous – which even some sorcerers where afraid of discovering. Necromancy, dark arts, forbidden techniques, dark creatures. San knew she wasn’t one to practice any of it, she rather explored all the boundaries through books and scripts, studied old ancient stone plaques and listened to the old folktales. Was she connected to everything? San couldn’t believe it. 

No, he had to shake his head at the thought. If anything, she noticed the danger and had probably read something up. And then- Someone must have disrupted her. Or something. A creature so evil, so malicious that it fell under the category of dark creatures as the book said and dangerous enough that she would leave him behind.

So he turned to it and flipped through the book. Read countless pages, skimmed over but understood them all. Traced the drawings, burned them into his memory. Unable to stop his body from shaking, each word felt like poison to him. Getting closer to what was happening all around him. 

He wanted to deny, to erase what he had just learned and never get back to it but life was never this easy. Had he not been given a backdoor and no secret underground tunnel to escape. 

“This is not meant to be seen by the likes of you.” 

A voice sharp as a blade cut through the silence. San’s instinct told him to stay still because he had been seen snooping but he knew better. This was a different circumstance. And she had no right to tell him that. 

“Where is my grandmother?” 

“Gone.” 

“Gone?” He yelled, turned around to face her but froze. Couldn’t believe his eyes. His gut clenching painfully, the sudden awareness of the severity of the situation raining down on him. “Won- Wonyoung?” 

No, that couldn’t be her. Was this really the girl he had gotten to know all those months ago? The girl who had warmed up to his grandmother, had shown talent for witchcraft and was willed to learn it. The sweet young girl who had been considerate and helpful? Who had changed so much?

Her skin, now, was ashen, all taint gone from her face, lips as pale as the rest of her skin. Black long hair fell in waves down her body, longer than he had ever seen it before. Dressed in pure black, clothes San would had never guessed seeing her wearing. The places not hidden away by clothes where filled over and over with black marks, some circling her arms, others looking like claw marks over her legs. So black, it almost made her skin seemingly see-through. The contrast so immense, San felt like she would disappear the moment he looked away. 

His breath hitched, eyes crossing hers. 

The eyes. Her eyes. The white sclera was now an infinite black. Her once brown and full of life eyes had faded, changed into an a deep read. So dark, it made him shudder just staring at her.

She looked – _looked like the people in his dream_. 

The darkness seemed to emerge from her, to fill out the room around them and chase every possible source of light away until San felt like he was caged inside nothing and everything. As if time had stopped around them. His body no longer listened to him, fell backwards against the table in desperate search of something to ground him. 

Wonyoung, or what was left of her, watched him in silence, her face not giving away what she was thinking. She terrified him. Every word was stuck in San’s mouth, couldn’t come free and be spoken, he feared her reaction too much to try. 

Feared what she had become. What had changed her. 

“Come. I will show you something, _San_.” 

If a soul could leave a body, Youngjo would do that in the exact moment Yeosang said those words. 

An archangel? That sounded unreal, even to him but he knew it better, had sawn it with his own eyes. Yeosang could still recall the words thrown his way and the consequences they had to face, what shame this curse had brought upon. How deep the fall had been.

“You must be joking.” Youngjo’s voice was barely above a whisper, so soft, it could be easily carried away by a breeze. So full of emotions, Yeosang’s heart responded to it. Beat faster, palms sweaty. 

Yeosang would love to joke, be able to say that everything had been a big misunderstanding and nothing had ever been real. But he couldn’t. 

His head fell on his knees. He couldn’t look at his mentor and friend any longer, felt the tears of frustration welling up inside of him. Let them be free. Yeosang just couldn’t keep it in anymore, had he been euphoric over the discover a while ago, had this now changed. Had he thought about what his resurfaced memories meant for him. For them. 

And finally understood why. 

Why he had to go through so much pain. Why he had never lived a life to its fullest. Why he had always a place to fill inside of him and had felt empty when it hadn’t been filled. Why he had never been able to fight the feelings he had felt.

Yeosang understood. But this didn’t mean he liked it, appreciates it that the memories where back now. 

The memories, no matter how old and from which lifetime, they hurt him. Yeosang’s body felt like it was on fire, burning from inside out. Every fiber of his body was burning him alive. The pain was almost not bearable. Just the thought of the confrontation he would have soon was enough to make his body shake violently. His fingers clawing through his clothes. 

He had to face San, need to explain everything to him. How could he possibly? Would San even understand what he would tell him? Yeosang feared his love’s reaction, what the younger might say or do. 

If he still wanted Yeosang. After everything they have gone through. 

“I- I wish- I was kidding but I am not.” He barely got out, the flow of tears making Yeosang’s voice unsteady. “It is the truth and I cannot change it.” 

“This is getting out of hand-”

“Oh- really?! I did not notice.” Yeosang said it harsher than he meant it, immediately looking up through his blurred vision. “I- I am sorry, I did not mean it. Just, all this- it is too much. All these information, these memories… How can one body, one brain, possibly contain them all without going insane?” 

“Yeosang-“

“The heavy burden on my shoulders, knowing it is my own fault that I have to suffer like his. No, not only me but my love as well.” 

His voice was shaking, rough sounding and the tears never stopped. Yeosang knew the burden was his to hold, his to live through. 

“I have done so much wrong in my first life that the archangel had- they had to curse me.” Yeosang was frustrated, at himself, at the situation. That he encountered something so out of his reach, there was no way he could fix it. “Youngjo- My doing killed so many.”

He hadn’t noticed his mentor coming over to him until two arms wrapped around Yeosang, rocking him back and forth in a calming manner. Youngjo whispered words of encouragement to him, telling him that a previous life would never define him but Yeosang couldn’t listen, only felt the hot tears streaming over his cheeks and soaking Youngjo’s shoulder.

And for a while nothing broke them apart, just Yeosang’s sobs where audibly through the hallway and it seemed everyone kept their distance from them. Hands clawed at the elders body while he tried to calm his broken student – tried to tell him they could work this out together. 

But could they? Yeosang didn’t know. Could he ever have a life without fearing it would end way to soon? Probably not. 

“Yeosang, hey, can you listen to me?” Youngjo asked soft, rubbing his back. Yeosang couldn’t muster up his voice, the only thing indicating that he had listened was the little nod he did. 

“Look, no matter what you have done in your first life, it has been so long ever since and you can not be held responsible for your former decisions, not when they had been many hundred years ago. The one you had been back than is not the Yeosang I have in my arms right now.” With a gentle tug he made Yeosang look up to him and Youngjo’s hands framed Yeosang’s red cheeks, brushing away the traces of tears. “Your soul might be centuries old but your character has to be build up every single time from the ground. Whatever mistake you have done then and there, it happened and we cannot erase it but we can look for a solution. Remember, curses can be lifted.”

“Really?” It was a broken response but Yeosang’s tears slowly got less. 

“Yes. But you have to tell me about what curse we are talking about, who said it and why.” 

Yeosang’s mind was running. All these emotions crashing down on him, tearing him down and burying him alive. The crash of emotions from countless timelines were blocking his head, breaking his heart. So many times had he loved before, so many times had he suffered. Cried because his loved one had been ripped out of his hands. Screamed when someone had used violence on him, broken not only his mind but also his soul. Fell into despair the few times he knew he had no other escape then death. 

His memories reminding him of all the painful deaths he had to endure of the centuries. 

Burned alive because humans had a hatred against witches. Killed by the own race because they were cannibals. Drowned when he had upset a lover. Followed his loved one to the other side when they didn’t return from war. Pierced through the heart when he had fought for a woman to be his. Murdered in the dark when he had been to wealthy. 

Killed for his blood. His abilities. His preferences. 

All of them had ended early with his death. With the death of his loved one because it always followed the same repetitive way, the cycle they had been stuck in. 

“Two souls forever bound together.” 

Because his soul had been bound with San’s for an eternity. Their souls always coming back, finding back to each other, even if it took a few lifetimes for them to meet again – no other one could ever fill the void as well as the other. The void they felt when they weren’t close. 

Yeosang couldn’t stop falling for San’s soul in every lifetime, fall for the person the soul had been reborn into. No matter if male or female, if a witch or fairy – it was always them against the world. And it could have been easy for them, Souls meant for each other always find a way to meet. There was nothing bad to it, it happened all the time.

But they made a mistake. In the lifetime they met and loved, it hadn’t been their right to love, the timing wasn’t theirs. The love they had felt had blinded them, their eyes closed to the danger they had brought upon others. A bond so deep that everything beside themselves had lost importance, was merely a background noise and nothing more.

So it was bound to happen. The moment Yeosang had sawn San back then, surrounded by all the nature, he had fallen for the young man in front of his eyes. Had felt the tug at his heart to go over and get to know the other better, to see who he was and why he felt such strong attraction. Had fallen for his beautiful soft hair, the way his eyes always shone so brightly when he talked about the garden he was tending, the smile so soft it melted his heart every single time. 

Found himself lost in all the little touches they had exchanged, mesmerized on how San had become more confident with himself over time and demanded when he felt like it.

San was so different from all the lifetime’s before. He was not a Hongjoong. Not a Yunho. Definitely neither a Jongho nor a Mingi. Or any of the other life’s he went through. San wasn’t the blond beautiful fairy girl who had once stolen his heart nor was he the strong warrior of a far away country. All of these lives had the same soul. But none of them was San. None of them was the man he had fallen for. 

And it didn’t matter how many lives he would fall for the same old soul – he would love all of them. 

“I was an angel. My fellow angels trusted me and wanted to promote me to become an archangel. I was a naïve, young angel, inexperienced and way to innocent. Back then I had not yet seen the wrong doings of the creatures we had to watch over nor had I seen how incredible they were. How loveable.”

Yeosang took a deep breath. A few stray tears still spilled but they both ignored them, Youngjo encouraged him to continue with a slight smile. Even though his voice was still shaky and his breathing still erratic, Yeosang knew he had to go through it. 

“I fell in love. Can you believe it? I fell in love when my only purpose had been to watch and protect. I found my soulmate, the one who completed my existence and you know, it would have been alright if I laid down my work and gave it to someone else.”

“But you did not.”

“No. I was selfish, thought I could handle both things at the same time but I could not. Instead of protecting the ones under my care I left them to die. Because of me they died, had no protection from something that could have been prevented.”

Yeosang could vividly remember the yells, the prayers which had been sent his way. The words which should’ve been a wake up call for him. But he had noticed way to late what was happening, his hands already stained with blood which was not his own. Cries of pain reaching his ears. 

“My ways of thinking made them die. I should have been focused on my task or at least gave it to someone else but I left an opening for our arch enemy back then.”

“Demons?” 

“Yeah. They attacked the villages of weaker races and killed them, ate their fear and sorrow and enjoyed the way on how we could only watch – how we failed. No, I failed. We could have been there and helped those poor souls from their torture which was not meant for them but for us. Angels and demons had always fought with each other, it was not something new. However, it was the first they had directly attacked a whole innocent villages to show how incompetent we were.” Yeosang had to take a deep breath. “They wanted to torture us but new we would hurt even more when they would hurt the innocent. The once we vowed to protect.”

Youngjo was silent for a moment, regarding his face. 

“You fell for a demon.”

“A high-ranked demon. It was not something unheard of, a handful had distanced their selves from these unnecessary fights and he was one of them. How could we have known that his former surroundings where watching him? That they knew about us?”

“He loved you enough to ignore them and be with you.”

“Yes he did- He-“ 

It was hard to swallow these strong feelings, the knowledge that he was the same person as San. That he had never lost him. 

“His name was Seonghwa. The most caring demon you would ever find. He could be incredible fierce and strong but most of the time he just enjoyed living. Loved to watch animals, see what humans where curious about lately and what songs where the sirens singing. I fell for him and ignored my work, ignored the people who told me it would backfire. All these innocent died because of me, my hands bloody. I should have made a decision but I was selfish. So Seonghwa became my sin.”

“And the reason why you were cursed. The archangel cursed you because of your actions.” Youngjo let out a shaky breath, grasping the weight of the whole situation. “Your love was prohibited but they would have overlooked it, if you would not have left your work.”

Silence. Around them was no sound to be heard, the air around them thickening with every second. What a revelation. It felt like a big weight was lifted from his shoulders but Yeosang knew that this wasn’t the full story yet, had he not yet explained the curse. Yeosang didn’t know what his mentor was thinking, how he was seeing him now. 

“A curse spoken by a being so powerful – it is still on going till this day. I can still remember the words, the curse thrown our way before we died at their hands.

‘You two have committed one of the greatest crimes. Sinners. Nothing more than sinners are you two. On your shoulders are the burden of hundred deaths, all of them could have been prevented if you had done your work, Yeosang. We are more than disappointed. Death is the only way of punishing you two. But wait, let them repeat it.’ The archangel had bend down to me. ‘Your soulmate shall commit one great sin every lifetime you two repeat, if committed, death will follow on your twenty-first birthday for them. If so, you too will follow and the cycle shall repeat itself.’” 

“You- you were cursed to relive the burden of your love again and again…” 

“I had been warned, you know. My best and only friend back then told me to be careful, to watch my step and what consequences they might have but I was to prideful to listen to him. The moment we were executed I was able to see it in his eyes, he sadness I had made him feel.” 

Could still see the hurt in the other’s eyes. 

“I choose my love over anything else. I was stupid and I regret it so much.” 

Suddenly the mansion around them awakened. Footsteps started to echo back and forth on the walls, hitting their ears and in an alarmed matter did Youngjo stand up, his eyes casted down the hallway. For a moment they just listened, trying to understand what happened for the mansion to be awake now. Until a pair of foot where carried down their hallway, a ragged breath followed by the sound. 

Not far from them came a certain maid to halt, her hands placed on her knees to stabilize her while she tried to catch her breath. 

“Seunghee?”

“Seunghee!” Yeosang bolted up, the sudden move making him dizzy and just Youngjo’s quick reaction stopped him from falling down again. “Where is San?!” 

“That-“ She coughed. “He is in the village but-“

“But what?!”

“Yeosang, let her talk.”

Yeosang looked at Youngjo in disbelieve and earned a stern look. 

“Something is wrong with the village. There was no one when I entered it.” Seunghee took a deep breath. “I found San passed out on the bed of his grandmother, her, however, I was not able to find. I was able to wake him up but- Please, you have to go there! San told me to get you two and everyone I could find! There must be something entirely wrong.” 

Yeosang hadn’t run so fast in a while but just the thought of San being in danger made his body go to lengths he had never known he possessed. He had a bad feeling about this. Youngjo was close behind him, equally as worried as he was. The trees they were passing by seemed to silently wave at them while they ran bye, singing a sad farewell song. The atmosphere gave Yeosang chills. Never had he seen the forest so – lifeless. Scared even. While the trees flew by their views, Yeosang felt a sickening feeling creeping up in him and a glance over his shoulder told him that Youngjo didn’t like the situation any more.

Other witches or sorcerers had come from the mansion, some were ahead while others ran behind him. Some had the ability to fly themselves, a few came riding horses. The sheer amount of people willed to help the village made Yeosang hopeful they could help – depending on what had happened there. 

The magic inside of Yeosang was buzzing, vibrating and catching on. He felt electrified. Each step drew brought them closer but Yeosang’s heart was beating faster and faster. If it was the exhaustion from running or his worried mind, he didn’t know, however, Yeosang knew he couldn’t stop, not until he had San save in his arms. 

In this lifetime he would make everything right, he would treasure every moment with his love and protect him at all cost. Maybe their destiny hadn’t been sealed yet. Yeosang was, for the first time since he had sinned as an angel, aware of everything before it was to late. Or so he hoped. 

Hoped with every inch of his body that San hadn’t yet committed a sin great enough to trigger their fate. Hoped that he could safe their lives just once, live longer than just his twenty-first birthday. Because no matter how much the truth was tearing him apart, the thought of losing San weighted way more than any other emotion inside of him right now. 

He wanted to cry, to yell and rip something apart but there were more important matters at hand. 

No word was muttered between them, the only thing heard was the heavy breathing of multiple people but Yeosang almost tripped when his eyes saw something in the distance.

 _Smoke_. 

Smoke was rising where the village was located at. And now Yeosang was able to smell it too. A fire. A big fire. 

Scared for everyone’s life. Now people were screaming, telling everyone to hurry and they did. One after another they ran to the village entrance before stopping abruptly. 

One part of the village was on fire, lit like a candle and eating away the air around them. It was hot. Yeosang was greeted by a wall of hot hair and sweat immediately began to run down his head, polling on his chin. Brushing it off, he looked back to see his mentor coordinating the crowd of people who came along. Nodding heads and no protests, everyone going to work, listening to Youngjo’s words as if he was their master. The elder’s eyes scanned the flames on their right before they met his, his mentor running over to him. 

“Go! Yeosang go! What are you waiting for! San needs you! I come after you when I coordinated the others who are not yet here!” 

Gulping he nodded. Yeosang doesn’t need to be told twice. He ran down the path he had come to know so well, saw the buildings on the right on fire, the flames eating away the space once people had lived in. While running past them he wondered where everyone was, where the villagers had gone too since he met no one on his way. No screams, no pained cries. Had everyone evacuated on time? Yeosang hoped so. 

The smell of burned wood made him choke and trip while he had a coughing attack but was able to stay on his feet. 

As soon as the small wooden house came into view his heart dropped. The door was wide open but he saw no one. Yeosang hoped San had either evacuated or was still inside waiting for him. But when he ran past the doorframe he was greeted with silence. 

“San?”

He yelled through the empty house but got no reply. Yeosang let his magic run free, tried to locate if anyone was inside of the house, had to see that he was indeed the only one inside. But something else made him uneasy. It was the feeling of his magic being rejected. Something or someone had been here and the traces of magic it had left behind was rejecting his white magic. 

His breath hitched when he thought back, remembered what his memories had told him not to long ago. Yeosang’s memory clearly remembering the feeling of this certain magic – of the energy left behind. Felt a shiver run down his spine at the thought of everything happening again but this time he would lose far more than just a village he had wanted to protect. Lose people he had grown up with, people he had grown to accept, people he had learned to love – everyone inside of the village was in danger and Yeosang hadn’t warned any of them. 

Just to be a hundred percent sure he looked through each room, calling for both San and his grandmother but no one was answering his calls, the house greeting him with silence. 

Yeosang stopped when he saw something in the corner of his eyes, walked closer and let his fingertips brush over it.

It was a book, lying opened on a table. He didn’t mean to snoop, however, on of the images on the page got his interested and in the end he couldn’t help himself looking inside of it. What he saw and read made his heart drop. Why do they posses such a book? Yeosang questioned himself, not understanding where the connection came from.  
Had one of them potentially figured out and read it up? If yes, where were they now? They couldn’t just disappear like this. Seunghee had said she had woken him up and even talked with him, so he must be up and alright. 

But why would San walk around when he was aware that they would come soon? When he surely had noticed the fire outside.

The fire. Maybe he wanted to help the villagers. Even though they had never treated him right, would San help them without hesitation. Yeosang wanted to scold himself for not thinking about this possibility sooner.

He turned around and ran out of the house, his feet now set a new goal and a new hope had reawakened inside of his heart while being caged in by the fear he felt. Fear for the creatures coming, the magic and powers they would bring along. The fierce battle he would have to fight once again. This time without his power of an angel, instead with the white magic of a sorcerer. 

It was no coincides that this particular village was under attack and Yeosang was aware of it. It would be one to many coincides they had in the past leading up to now.  
His feet where soon stopped, his eyes widening in shock.

Right in the middle of the street stood San, his back turned to Yeosang but he could get a glimpse of his side profile, saw the pure hatred in his face. Yeosang stood a few meters away, shocked because he had never seen such a strong emotion on the younger’s was. And then he saw it, saw whom the hate was directed against. 

San’s hand was around Wonyoung’s throat, the young girl not struggling against it at all. No, she was smiling at him – smirking even. As if she wanted him to do it. The girl had changed so much Yeosang hadn’t even been sure it had been her in the beginning but he would never forget her presence. It was definitely her. No matter how she looked like now, deep inside of her body was still the young he had gotten to know, no change would ever be great enough to make her disappear completely. 

He had to do something before San would do something the younger would regret later on – before he committed a sin. 

“San!” 

At the sound of his name did the younger turn around, a sudden flash of hurt going through his face.

“Yeosang?”

“What are you doing, San? Let her go!” 

“I cannot!”

San so desperately cried back and for a moment did Yeosang believe him, thought that his love would never kill with out a good reason. Had to remind himself that it always ended this way and that he had still time to change their future. 

“You can! Killing someone is never the right answer!”

“You do not understand Yeosang, I can never forgive her for what she has done.” 

“What do you mean-?”

San laughed bitterly, it sounded so deep, so threatening – he had never heard his love like this before. And a realization washed over him. 

“She killed my grandmother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way. Are some up for a few little stories out of Yeosang's previous life's? I consider doing them after I'm finished with the story ^^
> 
> As always, I'm always happy over comments <3 (Thanks for 700 views!)


	8. One love, two souls, one destiny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi …. :)
> 
> With big steps we are approaching the end :D And it makes me kinda sad knowing that the main story comes to an end soon. Thank you for sticking with me through this five months <3 There will be just one more chapter before it comes to an end, so the story will officially end within 9 chapters. I've planned to give you some more bits and pieces of the story after the story is over. :) Comments will be appreciated and feedback as well. :3
> 
> Tags important for this chapter: Blood, Gore, explicit violence, minor character death, hurt/no comfort

Flames as high as the sky where searching their way through the village, shadows running around, trying to tame the wildfire around them. Different energies hoping to restore what had burned so quick. His eyes searched for any villagers, anyone who might haven’t escaped yet, but he saw no one – heard no screams, no cries, no pleadings for a someone to help. 

Around them just the heat licking at their bodies, trying to burn them alive. 

Youngjo had tried to coordinate the other’s, telling them what to do, how stay on track. Thankfully most of them were fast, acting on instinct and helping wherever they could help. 

But he wondered. Thought. Where were all the people? Shouldn’t someone be here running from the endless sea of burning hell they were surrounded with? He was suspicious. Had to be with what Yeosang had told him just earlier – knew there was a bigger force working. 

Feeling a wave foreseeing wash over him. The gut feeling that something was wrong. Youngjo had to find Yeosang as soon as possible but had to stop himself from blindly running after his student, knowing very well that he was in fact strong enough to care for himself. 

Sweat rolled down his face but never made it to the ground, dissolving midair. It was too hot, too dangerous for him to stay so close to the burning buildings, knowing they could collapse any second now. Hearing the cracking sound of wood giving up under the intense heat. Turned around in search for something he could do, somewhere were his abilities could actually help. White magic wasn’t a destructive and neither an aggressive form of magic, barely used for any form of harm. Couldn’t keep a flame away from burning a house down. It wasn’t his field of specialty. Yet here he was, thinking about all the defensive ways he could help a person.

Adrenaline running through his veins, hands clammy from all the sweat his body was producing in the heat, Youngjo let out a long breath. The sky above him black as the night, clouds of smoke banishing every possible source of light while the flames flickered all around him, dancing a dance of life and death. Sparks coming for him, disappearing and being replaced by another one. 

Youngjo’s feet carried him past the flames, a shield of white magic was shielding him from the fire around him but wasn’t able to keep the heat away. Hair disgustingly sticking to his head. Yet he wasn’t paying any attention to it, searched in the blazing for wounded or helpless people, tried to listen if he heard anyone. 

There was none. Not a single soul. 

Within the heat, while running and searching, he sent out his magic to scan the village around him. To let his magic touch the living around him. And came to a halt. 

With widening eyes stood he still, holding his breath. Youngjo couldn’t believe his own magic – no, it wasn’t the fact that he couldn’t believe it. He desperately wanted it to be wrong. Has Youngjo never more hoped his abilities where wrong. 

They had never been wrong, not since he had learned to handle them. Had his magic always given him comfort when had needed it. Pulsating and resonating in all the right ways. 

But now he was stumbling, hoping the ground which was opening beneath his feet wouldn’t swallow him and the world shaking around him was just a mere illusion he wished to escape. 

The dread of knowing crawled up in him. And his steps became slower while the shield around him started to flicker, loose its consistency and power. Youngjo’s heart hammering in his chest as if it was the last thing it would ever do. The thought may contain more truth than he wanted. 

Not far from him in one of the buildings which had already been burned to the ground was something his magic had picked up and even though every fiber in his body was screaming against him, wanting him to turn around and flee, to never come back and leave all of this to a mere dark memory – Youngjo knew he couldn’t turn his back on this. Not with all these lives still running around and trying their best, not with Yeosang and San still in the village. 

However, what he saw when he came closer to the building made him almost throw up, had he not seen such gruesome things in a long time. 

There, in the ashes of the wooden building laid the halfway burned bodies of three people. Two adults, one child. It wasn’t the smell of burned flesh or the visual of the red staining their clothes that made him want to turn around. No, it was the gruesome way they had died. In way a fire could have never killed them. 

A head laid not far from the body of the child; black deep holes stared back at him where once had been eyes. The eyes of a live still so young, filled with mischievousness and will to live – now robbed of their future. Scares running all over the child’s head, forming deep scars in the dead flesh where the flames hadn’t reached it yet. A shiver ran down his spine when he saw small fingers clutching onto the ground, trying to find hold in the stone beneath the youthfulness. Clothes ripped apart; edges burned down.

Everything inside of him screamed to run and turn around but he couldn’t, his eyes glued to the dead bodies lying so close but out of reach of their beloved child. Neat slit throats decorated by deep red blood, sprinkles of them everywhere, eyes fallen close and never opened again. Bodies so horrendously defiled Youngjo had to put a hand over his mouth to not scream at the picture in front of him. He had seen death over the centuries he had been alive but this? This was murder, pure straight up murder and whoever had done it must have enjoyed it. Had filled their lust filled mind with the blood of innocents. Hands stained with a life force so unique and one of a kind, spilling it meant a way of no return. A one-way ticket because the dead stayed dead. 

Wasn’t it already gruesome and horrific like this, was the energy around them what had lured him here in the first place. The dark, powerful magic he hadn’t felt in centuries clashing against his white magic, a deep echo vibrating through his body with each collision. A menacing energy radiating back from the corpses in front of him. 

Youngjo had to go, to turn around and get away from the scenery – something he would never forget for the rest of his live. Could almost imagine the sickening smirk the monster had on its face when it tortured the family, took an away future from them which could have meant so much but was worthless now. 

Saw the claws gripping for the human flesh, piercing through what once had lived and had been left to die. Could hear the pained screams echoing back from the house which had been full of live once. 

The child’s pained cries for their mother and father. 

Dark magic. A source of power only owned by the ones who where classified as creatures of the darkness or dark magic sorcerers. This was no work of a sorcerer. It was the doing of a creature so filled with hatred and lust for blood it went on a killing spree, torturing whatever came in its way. 

Deep resonating inside of him was Youngjo’s white magic telling him that these poor souls weren’t the only victims. 

No, if he was right, then the people of the village have never made it out. Not one soul had escaped a death so horrifying Youngjo wouldn’t wish it anyone. 

His mind running a mile while he tried to recover, to hold in the sickness he felt by the death all around him. Trying to hold his ground when his magic rejected the overpowering magic of darkness. Fighting of the shadows which reached for him, wanting him in their grasps but burning when they came to close. 

But what was the most horrifying of it all was what he saw when he stepped out of the ashes and the ruins of the house. A pain shooting through his chest when his eyes locked with the very person, he had devoted his life to. A person he could no longer trust. A person he had loved so much, the backstab he had done to him was enough to make him fall. 

“What have you done?” 

Was all he could say when he watched the man walking closer, the angelic face light up by the flames which where still grasping for the sky and mirrored his pained expression.

“I never- “

“Why?” Was all he wanted to know, to understand. “What is your role in all of this, Hwanwoong?” 

The younger one looked at him with such a pained expression he wanted to belief that everything had to be an misunderstanding but yet here they were, standing in a village which was on the verge of being burned down with its people slaughtered left and right. 

“You do not understand- “

“Yes, I do not! Explain yourself. I know you where with Yeosang that night.”

Hwanwoong blinked in confusion, brushing off what he said while still coming closer until only an arm’s length was keeping them apart. If it was the truth he was confronted with or the distance he kept from Hwanwoong, Youngjo didn’t know but the pain in Hwanwoong’s eyes pained him as well.

How could he have blindly trusted a man like him for so many years. Given his everything to the man he had fallen for centuries ago, gave his heart away to the soulmate he had always wanted and found in Hwanwoong. Yet this man had secrets apparently and so many, not one had ever slipped past these lips. Hwanwoong had never trusted him enough.

Lips he had kissed so many times, felt and owned - loved. Lips which had formed so many words over their lifetime. And yet he seemed like a stranger, someone he had trusted blindly way too fast. 

Had all their years been _lies_?

“Would you listen if I said I could explain it?” Hwanwoong tried to reach for his face but Youngjo grabbed for his wrist, holding it strongly. “Would you listen if I told you that this got out of my hand? That I never intended this to happen?”

“Speak and I will listen. If I trust your words, however, that is for me to decide.”

His voice was cold, piercing the heated air around them and even now Youngjo could feel the shadows around them, reaching and grasping – holding onto his distrust. Fueling it. 

“I do not know from what event you are speaking; I was never in Yeosang’s room and I do not know what happened there. But you are right, this is my doing. Everything.” A tear slipped past the younger’s eyes and it took everything in Youngjo to not whip it away, his hand still holding onto the witch’s wrist. “Did- did Yeosang remember his first life?”  
“He did.” Youngjo almost growled back, worry starting to spread in the back of his head. Yeosang was all alone in the village, surrounded by fire on the search for his loved one. For the other cursed one. The person who was stuck with him each and every time. Until he would –

Until his love would commit a sin. 

“He told you about the curse, did he not? About the reason why he was cursed in the first place.”

“Hwanwoong how- “

“It was me. I was the one who cursed him.”

If it wasn’t for their surroundings Youngjo would have fallen for sure, not able to follow what his soulmate was saying. He was the one who had cursed Yeosang? But that had been hundreds, maybe even thousands of years ago. 

And it was done by an-

“ _Archangel_.” Youngjo breathed out, feeling how things started to fall into the right places. “But- how? You are a witch! I never felt anything remotely close to archangel energy from you! It would have been all over you- _howdifferent_.” 

Hwanwoong took a step back, his wrist falling out of Youngjo’s grasp.

“I was the archangel who cursed Yeosang when he was a young angel. It was me who took the matter into his hands and made him regret what he did. Made him see what pain it brought onto others that he had fallen in love with a demon.” 

“Had there not been any other way of punishing him!?” 

He wanted to scream, to cry out because the man he loves, loved, had brought so much pain over a boy he saw as his family, as the son he had never been blessed with. As the young man he was privileged enough to see grow up and mature right in front of his eyes. 

Hwanwoong had watched Yeosang being in pain for weeks. Saw how much his student had tortured himself with thinking about what was wrong with him. What he had done wrong to deserve such pain. To suffer. 

He couldn’t even imagine how hard it must be to remember – to see the one he loves die so many times in front of his eyes. Seeing how many times they had been close but oh so far away. Felt his heart ache by the thought of losing San to the curse implied by the person Youngjo had trusted. Loved. Wanted to spend his forever time with. 

“I was punished for it.” Hwanwoong’s eyes flickered to the side and Youngjo followed his eyes, seeing a dark figure laying low in the shadows. “Because you are right, I am no longer an archangel. Or better said, I am no longer allowed to call myself an archangel. The whole curse – it was something I said out of anger without thinking about the consequences not only for myself but also for everyone involved.”

Slowly it crept closer, shadows merging and pushing, pulsating as if they had a heartbeat. 

“My sin was cursing someone. An archangel does not curse and as I did it, got ripped from my high class and thrown to the earth. I am no longer a mighty person but a fallen angel, tasked to relive my own life until I was able to make my grudge disappear and help the boy to move on.”

Youngjo’s eyes snapped back to the man in front of him, anger consuming him. With fierce steps did Youngjo close the space between them while the younger – no technically older – man was looking at him, in his eyes so much misery. 

“What took you so long?” 

He whispered, his words getting eaten by the sounds of wood cracking and now people screaming. The demons. They weren’t finished just yet. Hadn’t given up on their hunt for blood.

“It was hard to accept that I made a mistake, but it was even harder for me to find Yeosang again. Believe me I tried for centuries to locate him but whenever I was getting a lead – I was too late. Twenty-one years into a life are just not enough. Yet this life I was right on time, saw the boy when he was just a few weeks old because I knew immediately who he was.” Hot, thick tears started to roll down Hwanwoong’s eyes and the regret in them made Youngjo gulp strongly. “Why do you think Yeosang was even capable of using white magic? Because I gave him my blessing. Even as a fallen angel I could still use my powers and with these I hoped you two would meet someday, we would meet again, and I would get my chance of helping him.”

“You where unsure of how to act around him.” Youngjo breathed out. 

“How could I possibly act nice and cheerful with someone I had wished the death? Had wanted to suffer again and again? I was not aware of the fact that being with me could trigger his memories and I surely did not try to make him suffer anymore. Seeing him grow up in front of my eyes just showed me once more what horrible thing I have done.” 

To their right appeared another shadow, his time taking on a more solid form. Hands, a neck, a face. A demon of higher class, yet not high enough to be unique. Just another marionette in a game. Youngjo wondered where this was going. 

“I wanted to help him, but I did not know how and San- when he appeared I knew he was the poor soul I had bound to Yeosang. This smart and cheerful boy who could never hurt a fly and I destined him to become a monster. That is why I am here, Youngjo.” Hwanwoong reached out, his hand opened up and free for him to take it. “It is not to late yet. San is still free from any sin, the curse has not turned its wheel just yet. We can safe them but I need you for this. I know I have done many wrong things, made mistakes but this time I want to make everything right. Please, help me. I will accept any punishment from you later on.” 

If Hwanwoong was right, and Youngjo had every right to doubt him, then both Yeosang and San had a chance to survive this, to live on and finally, for once, get past the age of twenty-one and the curse would be broken. If Hwanwoong would finally give them free from the grasp of their fate. 

But he hesitated. How much could he believe in what the other had told him? Could’ve told him years ago still had never found the courage to say anything. Had lied into Youngjo’s face every single day without missing a single one. This man he loved so much had kept a life changing information from him and had apparently never wanted to actively tell him. 

“How are these-“He gestured to the demons closing in on them in a rather slow manner, “-part of the equation?”

“That is something I have no answers for.” Hwanwoong sounded genuine, true to his words. “My best guess is that the soul of San has some kind of connection to demons this time around. But my god, that it recreates the scenario Yeosang had been in once- “

“ _You two should hurry up_.” 

Youngjo jerked around, heart hammering in his chest. A cold air closed in on them and in an instant his focus had changed. A figure almost transparent was floating not to far from him even though transparent was a little to far. More of a white see through. A ghost.

“You- “

“ _You do not have much time anymore_.” The ghost says, in his eyes a look of certainty. “ _I have seen the progress of it all way too often to not see the end of it. Please._ ” 

The ghost came closer and Youngjo could see the face of a young man, not much older than Yeosang was. 

“ _Please safe him from his misery, he does not deserve such punishment. He has atoned for his sin a long time ago_.” 

Youngjo’s eyes snapped back to Hwanwoong who had come closer, in his eyes a longing look. It tasted sour on his tongue to see such a face being shown to a ghost he didn’t knew but Hwanwoong seemed to be familiar with. Still, right now he wasn’t up for feeling something for the other and he would hold up onto it until they were out of everything. 

“You watched over him.” Was all Hwanwoong said to the ghost before outstretching his hand to Youngjo once again. “I gave Wooyoung the possibility to materialize in this life and I trust him when he says that we have to be quick.”

He had to gulp. Was this the right decision? Or was the running into his certain death?

A glance to the ghost sealed his decision. Yeosang was his top priority and San as well, everything else could wait. Right now, he had to push away his own struggles to help another struggling soul even though he didn’t like where they stood right now.

If he could ever forgive Hwanwoong for his betrayal that is. 

Just the image of Yeosang either dying because of the flames or dying through demons was something he wanted to see inside of his head. Youngjo had to act now to prevent both of these ends. 

“We will safe them, even if it is the last thing I will do.” 

Youngjo didn’t take the hand outstretched to him, walked past the man who hurt him so much, in those eyes he saw a pain flickering so deeply. Felt how Hwanwoong’s hand brushed his arm, ignored the tingling feeling altogether. Even if this man was his soulmate – he had done things Youngjo wasn’t ready to forgive this easily. 

Heard how Hwanwoong walked behind him, muttering words to himself Youngjo was glad he wasn’t able to understand through the loud fire still burning. 

There was just one last thing he had to know, so he turned around in his walking, making Hwanwoong involuntarily walk into him but scramble away immediately. Youngjo’s eyes were back on the ghost who watched them with intense eyes. 

“Where you the one who was in Yeosang’s room that one night?” 

“ _I was_.” The ghost, Wooyoung, said, in his word’s hesitance. “ _I scared him and for that I am sorry. For a long time, I had no one to talk to, had only watched him come and go so many times, I forgot how to decently interact. I meant no harm, I promise._ ” 

Youngjo believed him. The magic he had felt when he had touched Yeosang’s neck had been Hwanwoong’s. However, knowing now that Hwanwoong was strong enough to make a ghost materialize showed him that the traces of Hwanwoong’s power have been most likely left by Wooyoung who had talked and touched Yeosang. It made sense. So much sense in an ocean full of secrets.

“Thank you for looking out for him. I take on from here.”

Not turning around again, did he run, letting his magic free in search for the boys he so desperately wanted to safe. To give a future without the promise of dying and being reborn because of a curse. Felt how close Hwanwoong was behind him, keeping up with his fast steps. 

And for once, he forced himself to use the slight, almost not existing part of white magic that can hurt someone. Materialized a sword glimmering and shining in the purest white, so sharp, it could slice whatever came in front of its blade. A sword made out of the strongest white magic a human was able to possess, to yield and use. 

Hands gripping the sword strongly while his body began to resonate with the power flowing through him, feeling how barriers where overthrown and chains ripped open. The power Youngjo had held back ever since now breaking free and taking over his body. 

Without much resistance did he tear down the nearest demon with one precise cut, both halves falling down before slowly vanishing back into the black void it had come from. Then yelling at Hwanwoong to help him cut a way through the them. 

So, in the end, back on back they fought their way through the demons who started to materialize around and clawing at them. Some claws came through, pierced Youngjo’s arms and legs but he cared not enough to stop, pushed himself farther through the thickening crowd of demons. Blood running down his skin while black blood stained his clothes.

They were attacking once again an innocent village. Yes, these people weren’t saints and neither free of sins but not a single one deserved to die in such a horrific way, being killed by a few of the most ruthless killers out there. Had they planned this? Who knew, it wasn’t important in this moment anyway. Youngjo already slicing the next opponent without much difficulty, feeling the black blood splashing on his face, staining his once white clothes even further. 

Then he heard it, his heart dropping immediately. Hwanwoong screamed behind him in such a pained way, that his worry became the upper hand, Youngjo turning around to see what had caused such a reaction, what had made him sound so broken. 

A yell echoed through the air and within a second, he stood next to his soulmate, cutting down the demon who had dared to even touch his Hwanwoong. Saw red when Hwanwoong had to hold his arm where a higher ranked demon hat cut him with a scythe, the rest of it had fallen to the ground with a wet splash. The killed demon following it immediately. 

From one moment to the other he shielded Hwanwoong, pushing the sour tasting blackness away from them with his white magic. His soulmate whimpered in pain behind him but stood straight, not giving in to the pain which must be almost paralyzing to him. Shielded the wound were once had been his arm. Heard how the archangel started to murmur words of old spells – healing spells. Both knowing very well that the arm would never come back to him. Forever lost. 

The sword in his hands was pulsating with an energy he hadn’t felt in such a long time, heard inside of himself how greedy his body was for him to use the power more. To make it his. Using it to kill each and every creature who dared to lay a hand on Hwanwoong. Their soulmate bond responding to every call his newfound power send out. 

Had him slice one demon after the other when they came to close. Youngjo felt the hatred welling up inside of him. The pure lust to tear down every single one of the death bringing creatures who had hurt so many people. To whip away the shit-eating grin of the higher ranked demons who idly stood by and watched them with great interest.

And he almost lost himself in it. Lost in the overpowering feeling of being strong, of defeating anything and anyone. To shred everything to pieces, to erase their very existences. 

Just Hwanwoong calling him tore him out of his destructive thoughts, the still very much functionable hand holding his arm back from striking yet another demon. Saw the pain and worry in the other’s eyes and understood.

He had almost lost himself to the power of white magic. He, Youngjo, the great white sorcerer Ravn who had warned his very own student about it five years ago. How ironic.   
“I can feel them, they are not so far anymore, Youngjo! We have to keep moving.” 

Through the crashing and crackling sound of the blazing fire around them, beyond the growls of the demons and past his own selfish worries did he feel them too. Felt the two of them so close together and still very much alive. 

Youngjo looked back at the archangel and saw him using a spell to create lightning bright enough to chase away the formless shadow demons. Their eyes met for a brief moment and without a single word muttered between them did they knew what they had to do – no matter how much he distrusted Hwanwoong in this certain moment, Youngjo still knew him better than anyone. 

Together they sliced their way through the demons, killed one after another. Had he to dodge one big demon to gracefully dance around him and pierce his sword right through its head, pulling it out with a loud wet sound. Barely dodging the claws of his next opponent before he beheaded the demon.

A groan escaped his lips when Youngjo felt how something had cut him just above his waist. Fighting the feeling of pain, he swirled around, eye to eye with a demon of high class. Its hair in the brightest orange, however, the clothes and marks all over their body told him otherwise. This one wasn’t an easy enemy if the glint in its almost pitch-black eyes was giving it away. 

Their swords clashed in deafening sounds, both blades shaking at the force which was used to press them together, eyes locked. And the anger came back when he saw the smirk up-close. Youngjo took a light jump backwards and used the energy of the jump to move forward in fast manner, stabbing at the demon countless times. With each stab he got faster while the demon became more and more irritated at his agility, cursing at him in a language Youngjo hadn’t heard in centuries. 

The demon stumbled backwards because it had no power to fight back the fast-paced stabs and Youngjo pierced it. Stuck the blinding white sword deep into the demon’s stomach, turned the blade upwards and pulled the sword up, cutting the demon in half. A pained cry escaped the demon before its head was split in two, the mouth spread apart like gum. 

Hwanwoong was once again right behind him, urging him to move forward. Youngjo let his eyes roam the area and to his surprise had most higher ranked demons disappeared, probably afraid to be the next one on his list. 

Nodding to his soulmate they carried on with just one goal on their minds.

Yeosang’s heart clenched at the words. San’s grandmother was _dead_? The lovely old lady who was the only reason he had met San. The grandmother who had raised her grandchild to be such an amazing young man. This woman – was _dead_?

“Are you sure?” He said back, his fingers trembling. 

“Very.” San’s voice sounded so broken, Yeosang wanted nothing more than to walk over and hug him, let the man he loved cry out his pain. The hand around Wonyoung’s neck told him not to. “I saw it with my own eyes what she, no, this monster has done to my grandmother. To the person who gave my life a reason.” 

It hurt Yeosang to see his love being in so much pain. Was this how San had always felt when he had been in so much pain? 

But then the scene changed in front of his eyes, mirrored, mixed until he was reminded once again that all this could be no coincidence. Not when he saw the village back then and this village now overlapping, melting in his vision to become one. 

History repeated itself. 

Once again, he was at fault for innocent people to die, saw the black shadows and figures dancing around them in a safe distance. How could he have been so blind before to not notice their presence when he knew it better than anyone. The demons stayed where they were as if they were watching a show and Yeosang’s tragedy was the performance up on stage. 

Everything was happening again, and his love was in the middle of it. Saw Seonghwa’s pained expression on his face when he looked at San, mirrored in both of their faces the horror they had to go through. Felt through a bond older than centuries how much San was hurting with just looking at Wonyoung’s smile, at her relaxed face. 

This was San’s sin. If he would kill Wonyoung it would set the curse in motion. Even if they got out of the village alive, in the end they would wind up dead. 

“San please, listen to me!” 

Yeosang called out, his heart beating so fast and the fear running through his body. He couldn’t lose his soulmate again. No once more. For once he wanted to survive, to live on with the person he loved so endlessly. 

“Do not hurt her! I beg you do not! You have no idea what will happen if you do it!” 

San casted a glance over his shoulder, his whole frame trembling at Yeosang’s words. 

“You did not see her, Sang. No matter what you say, I cannot forgive her. Never.” 

It wasn’t that Yeosang felt much different, the longing to speak with older lady once more so strong he felt tears welling up in his eyes, but he had to hold himself together. San had no idea about everything and now, presented with the situation, knew Yeosang that it had been a bad idea to keep everything away from San. Maybe it could have prevented this very scenario. 

“No one tells you to forgive her, Sanie. I cannot forgive her as well, but you have to listen to me. If you kill her, there is no turning back from it.” Yeosang pleaded, hands bawled to fists while he watched San’s every move. “Because it is your destiny to commit a sin, San, you cannot do something against it. All of this happened because of a curse put on us but we can fight it.”

San glanced back at him and their eyes met. For a moment they just looked at each other while San seemed to search for something in his eyes, San’s brown eyes shining in the fire around them and red sparks in them dancing so dangerously. But when San looked away, Yeosang felt his heart drop. 

“San-!”

“Do not listen to him. Kill me San, I deserve it, do I not?” Wonyoung’s voice cut through their silence, raised above the fire coming closer and the shadows growling in their hideouts. 

San’s hand gripped even stronger at the girl’s throat, her own body trembling due to the lack of air filling her lungs. Just that demons needed no air. Yeosang had to clench his teeth at the play Wonyoung was playing with his love. 

She had to know about the curse or else she wouldn’t try to set him off. Would make him commit a sin he would have never considered in the first place. How cruel was fate that this had to happen when they were okay one time – when they could have done it finally. When Yeosang remembered and San had been safe. Yet here they were, closer to repeating the cycle once more. 

“She is tempting you San! Do not listen!” He cried out, feeling the despair of the whole situation crashing down on him. Saw out of the corner of his eyes how the shadow came closer to him, their wobbly forms vanishing and reappearing. “I can explain everything to you if you give me the chance!” 

But San wasn’t listening to him, not anymore. A figure loaming above San’s smaller frame, two shadow like arms closing around his chest and possibly a face so close to his ear, Yeosang was sure it was whispering something to San. His love’s eyes closed, pressed together so tightly as if he was fighting against whatever the demon was telling him, yet San wasn’t aware that it was around him. Shook his head in disagreement, however, never noticed the shadow around him. 

What San was incapable of seeing but Yeosang saw was the way the shadow seemed to not only surround San, no, it disappeared inside of the younger, merged with what was Yeosang’s love. 

“No!” His scream echoed through the place and for a moment the world stood still. The fire laid low, the wind not longer fueling it flames, the demons holding still. The world forgot how to breath. The moment the shadow was completely gone inside of San did Yeosang break down, his feet no longer able to carry him. 

It was like seeing the one you loved die before your own eyes because what could he do? San wasn’t listening to him any longer, hadn’t fought against the hatred enough to be able to hear him out – Yeosang knew the younger was lost now. Every hope was lost now. 

If it wasn’t for Wonyoung’s manic laugh Yeosang would have already walked over to the boy he swore to protect and helped him, still, just seeing her reaction to the demon merging with San was enough for him to punch the ground. He felt so helpless. So weak. Was there nothing he could do? Was this really the end he had to face now? Yeosang felt so frustrated. Letting it end this way? He couldn’t let it happen but yet here he was, not even able to stand up anymore, all of his fighting spirit had left his body. 

As if the time slowed down around them, did he see San’s hand falling down, giving Wonyoung’s throat free. She growled in annoyance – a voice so deep it could have never been her own. Yet she stopped in an instant when she saw how San fell to his knees, holding his head in pain. Screaming at the pain he must feel. 

Yeosang felt it so clear like a blue sky in summer – San was fighting against the demon inside of him. Fought a battle of owning and belonging. Of what would he become. In an attempt to help him, to ease his pain he finally collected enough energy to stand up. 

He wouldn’t let San go like this. Not when Yeosang was still able to do something, anything, even if it was just talking to him. To let his voice reach him.

He didn’t get far. With a sudden force against his back was he thrown of guard and felt how a heavy mess pressed him to the ground, sharp claws pining him to the ground and the smell of blood hitting his own nose. His body meeting the cold hard ground, suddenly so far away from the flames around them and even farther from San. His stomach was rebelling against it, wanted to be as far away from the blood as he could get because it had pierced his skin so deeply, Yeosang couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Inhaled sharply after he screamed in pain. His mind was running a mile. 

Yeosang couldn’t breathe.

With every strength in his body he tried to push the demon off but the claws where too strong, the demon too heavy to simply brush it off and with his mind all over the place he felt how no magic was forming at his command. The shadows surrounding him like a thick mass. Yeosang was all over the place and couldn’t think straight. His mind working on pure adrenaline without the air he needed.

“Yeosang!” 

Heard how pained San screamed for him but his body was paralyzed. Just his head he was able to turn, was able to look at San once more. Through his blurred vision he saw that the demon had changed San. Where once were his lovely and warms eyes, now they slowly faded into a black void with a red crystal in it. Even his tears couldn’t wash away the black streaks all over San’s visible skin. The more he watched, the more he saw that San started to look like Wonyoung. 

But even through San’s pained cries did Yeosang knew he lost him. Felt how their bond began to weaken with every passing second. 

The demon had possessed San. 

And all he could do was watch. Watch through the tears how his love slowly slides out of his grasp, so far away he would never get it. To a far away place he had no invitation for. 

All Yeosang had wanted was to live peacefully with San at his side, to go through thick and thin and enjoy life with all of its sides. Together. Because it didn’t mattered to Yeosang who San had been in any past life – the one he loved right now was the friendly and absolutely talented boy he met months ago in a garden he had tended for on his very own. The boy who had matured into a man, who was finally capable of saying what he wanted and needed without thinking about the consequences every time. The man he had kissed and felt the love for with every touch. The only man he had ever wanted to wake up next to. 

Was this really the _end_?

Saw through half-lidded eyes how Wonyoung stood up, now towering over the crying San. Blinking rapidly, he got rid of the tears just early enough to witness how she slapped him a cross the face. 

Yeosang wanted to yell at her, at him, at anyone in this given moment, however, nothing more than a deep groan escaped his throat. She hit San again and again, yelling at him to be true to his nature, to give his deepest wishes freedom. To become the monster his destiny was seeing for him. San was enduring them all and clawing his own head in pain, falling to the side with one particular hard slap. The younger still fighting the demon inside of him and couldn’t fight back. 

The pulsating black marks on San’s body slowly emerged a mass, a darkness began to surround the body. Wonyoung, who had watched the darkness with interest, just sickeningly laughed at the scenario in front of her feet before reaching for San. Her eyes meeting Yeosang’s and the glint in them was deadly. 

And the moment Yeosang lost all hope, scared Wonyoung might actually kill San in front of him, did the weight on his body suddenly disappear. The claws vanishing from his shoulders and from one moment to the other he could breath again, felt how his magic was pumping through his body again. 

With a sudden force yet again was he lifted of the ground. Two arms came around him and held him up, before sitting him down on his ass again. Yeosang, still confused by the situation, was looking around only to see a well-known pair of eyes in front of him. 

“Youngjo- “ 

The elder was over and over covered in black dots while read patches decorated his arms and legs but none of the things mattered when two stained hands held his cheeks and brushed away the tear stains. Two warm eyes looking down on him.

“San!” 

A voice he knew all too well yelled not far from them. Yeosang’s eyes looking past his mentor to see Hwanwoong looking angrily at Wonyoung who had stumbled back from San and was watching the witch with great curiosity. Just then he saw Hwanwoong holding onto his arm and the space where it should had been. 

“Hwanwoong! He- Why?” 

Yeosang looked at his mentor, tried to see a reason in the other’s eyes, found nothing more than a coldness he had never seen in relation to the man with one arm lost. What had happened?

“No time for explaining Yeosang.” Youngjo said with great urgency, pointing at San who whimpered in pain. “Did he already commit a sin? Did he do something?”  
“No!” Yeosang shook his head, trying to stand up with the help of his mentor.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, he wanted to kill Wonyoung but before he could do so, a demon possessed him.” 

Youngjo’s face displayed horror and when his and Hwanwoong’s eyes met, something happened. A silent agreement had been made between the two eldest. 

“Yeosang, we still have time.” Youngjo held him up and walked a foot away from him before a white sword appeared in his hand, manifesting itself. “You have to do an exorcism on him.”


	9. An endless cycle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the last official chapter of CYLMA. I say more at the end, so please read the endnotes <3

The world underneath Yeosang’s feet began to shake, the strength leaving out of them and after standing up, he almost immediately fell down again weren’t it for the arm around his waist. He should do what? An exorcism? But he was a failed person, had failed so many times, would he even be able to complete such a task? Wasn’t his failure the very reason why they were in this situation?

If it weren’t for the urgency in Youngjo’s eyes and the whimpering sounds from behind him, he would’ve let himself fallen, the whole situation way too much for him to bear again. Would have curled up and cried for the world to be silent. Wishing for everything to be over. 

Were the whole situation not a reminder to his very first life. The scenery, the outcome – was there even a change? Could there even be a change? Had he gone back in time? Was he forced to see the fateful day again, this time with his own eyes instead of memories which flooded back to him? The possibility of losing San was great. 

Yeosang was scared. Feared how the day would end. How fate would play them this time. Frightened of the possibility of everything starting again, the life coming after this maybe going through all this emotions again after Yeosang had died, if his new mind was able to remember them – or they had to wait another unpredictable time until the fate had mercy on them. Until it was fated for them to meet again. 

The hourglass being turned again and again, the sand falling and piling but there was no end to it. Yeosang was so undeniably afraid of being the one who turned it without knowing. 

Yet the spark running through his body made Yeosang stand up straight, the sudden pain spreading through his body alarming, worry claiming his heart. San was his soulmate – he knew that now, and what the younger felt, was delivered through their close bond. Through the bond only meant for the two. Only two souls who belonged together would be able to understand. 

Yeosang could feel San’s inner struggle, the fight he put up against the demon. A void. A darkness Yeosang had become all too familiar with, knew that it wasn’t always used in a bad way; San’s pained cries spoke against it. Yeosang’s body wanted to surrender to the pain given through the soulmate bond but he withstood it, gritting his teeth in pain. 

Because San was feeling his pain as well. Even in his struggle, in this fight he was fighting alone was he burdened with Yeosang’s worries – with his fears. Yeosang gave as much pain back as he was receiving. 

San and all the previous life’s had endured so much for him, so much for the mistake he had done centuries ago – now it was Yeosang’s part to shoulder the burden of stepping forward. San had been pulled into this without any of them knowing, and Yeosang knew he had to end this once and for all. Only he could bring them out of the loop, the cycle they had been stuck in, San still in the dark about the events. Their mistakes. 

The love which should have never been, but had bloomed nonetheless. 

Eyes crossing with Youngjo’s he knew what he had to do, Yeosang had never performed it before but was aware how it functionated. Youngjo had taught him and Yeosang’s could rely on his memory. Remembered the time he had learned it, nose deeply buried into an ancient book while his mentor said all those important facts and only checked if he was listening from time to time. They had even chuckled about the fact that a sorcerer should perform an exorcism, when humans would do them normally.

Now, there was not a way around it anymore. The belief they had shared shattered, because a human could never perform this sort of a spell. A demon of this kind too strong to be banished by a priest. 

Parting from Youngjo, Yeosang sprinted as fast as he could over to his beloved and almost had he fallen over his own feet, clumsily falling down but he regained composure last second, heard how Wonyoung was laughing at him from some distance. 

“You? Performing an exorcism? One has to laugh! A lovestruck boy performing a high-class spell? Unbelievable.” Wonyoung’s so disgusting deep voice floated close but he kept going, kneeled down next to his love. Ignoring every attempt of distraction. 

“Wonyoung, should you not focus on someone else?” Hwanwoong yelled at her and for a moment her taunting stopped. A hysteric laugh echoed back. 

“On you? The poor fallen angel with just one arm? The one who brought this misery on every one, am I not right, my dear? The one who forced this fate on us?” 

Yeosang turned around in shock, seeing how a panicked expression flew over Hwanwoong’s face before he turned his back on Yeosang again, fixing his gaze back on Wonyoung. 

“Yeosang, do not let her interrupt you! Ignore her, this few demons are nothing against us. Concentrate!”

And Yeosang wanted to believe him, however, the slowly reappearing demons made it hard to believe. They came back and it weren’t less than before. No, more came and soon Yeosang lost count which shadow was alone and which merely merged with another one or two. Some even existing within the flames. Was there a way to stop it? 

Fate had played them dirty once again. 

His eyes fixated Hwanwoong’s back and for a moment he felt his mind rumbling, the accusation floating through his mind. Connecting one dot to the other, understanding -  
Yeosang’s gaze wandered down, and taking in San’s state. Saw the distressed expression on his face, the way he clung to himself, curling his body and shaking violently, his once fluffy brown hair now sticking to his face. A state so painfully to watch, Yeosang’s heart ached. 

There was no time to dwell on the past, he told himself, took a deep breath to calm down. What once happened was unchangeable but the future? The future was still formable like a tree, either growing to its fullest beauty or being eaten by the animals around before it had time to bloom. Yeosang would safe this future. 

His hand descended down, slowly pushing the wet hair out of his love’s face while his other one was shaking. Because what would happen if he did something wrong? If the spell he would use wasn’t successful? 

Yeosang would lose San. Another time. One chance vanishing. They would have to meet again, fall in love again, die again. Repeating the cycle. Tracing the footprints left behind until Yeosang would eventually be strong enough to break free. But when was one strong enough?

What made someone strong enough to break a curse strong enough to last forever? 

What could possibly prepare ones heart for the toughest quest of them all? 

The rescue of your beloved?

The one he had seen die so many times, slipping out of his grasp and vanishing so quickly, never leaving a trace behind. A soul which was able to complete him like no other could. Just their hearts beating in the same rhythm. Only the time was their enemy. Had been their enemy from the very beginning, in every lifetime and with every rebirth. 

Inside of his heart found two kinds of pain their home, his own and the one from the person he so desperately wanted to safe, battling a war of uncertainty. 

This time it should be different, Yeosang promised the younger silently while holding his shaking body down. This time he would make it right.

“San!” He cried out, trying to reach the boy fighting deep within. “Listen to me, listen to my voice!” 

San cried out in pain at Yeosang’s touch as if it was burning him and suddenly he was aware that they were still surrounded by flames. Saw the flames still flickering not far, some black clouds mixed in between, more to come. There was no time to waste. 

The black marks on San’s body fled from his fingers and Yeosang felt his own magic rejecting the darkness, the presence of the demon within San. Noticed how his power vibrated, almost as if it had its own mind and desperately wanted Yeosang to step away, to leave the dark magic behind. 

Despite his worry for hurting the younger even further he took him into his arms, rooked his body back and forth, ignoring the painful scratches where San clawed him, long nails piercing through his clothes and tearing at his skin. Ignored the pain in his own heart at every pained cry of his beloved, could he only try to win the younger back somehow with the last straw. 

“San, I beg you! You have to fight.” Yeosang almost whimpered when San’s body trashed hard inside of his grasp. 

“He will not fight.” Wonyoung appeared next to him, on her lips a wicked smile. The black marks dancing on her skin like sparks of flames. “Do you not think that it is already too late? Look, he will succumb to the darkness deep inside of him. He will become what he should have been from the very beginning. No, what he was since he took his first breathe.”

Yeosang stared at her in bewilderment. Was San-? No, San wouldn’t fall. The younger was strong and Yeosang believed in him, believed that his beloved was capable of winning this fight. Together they would overcome this, they had to. She shot him another quick smile before she jumped away, Hwanwoong now standing between the two. 

And Yeosang could see the damage he had taken up close now. His arm was gone. Hwanwoong’s arm was gone, the shirt stained in red were it should have been. 

“Hwan-“

“No, do not concern yourself with me right now, Yeosang. Your priority is saving San, we can always talk at a later point.” 

With that did the elder sprinted away from him, perfectly cutting down a line of demons with a white cut, their bodies dispersing into thin air before the next line of demons jumped out. 

A whack to his chest startled Yeosang and he almost dropped the trashing body in his grasp, tightened his grip last second. Eyes falling back down to his beloved he saw how the marks strongly appeared around his eyes and down his neck, pulsating with every breath the younger heaved. 

Circling his throat like a chain, cutting of the oxygen. Crawling closer to the most vulnerable places.

Yeosang’s chest ached at the pain the younger had to endure, wanted to lift the pain.

“San.” He whispered, voice not more than a sound carried away by a breeze and buried beneath the wood creaking, wood splitting and falling. “I will perform a spell on you and you will be free from the demon.” Yeosang pressed the body against his in hope that his words were carried over the sounds of battle. “You have to fight your battle, I know you can. Do not leave me. Not again. Never again.”

His last words so carefully spoken into San’s ear he hoped the younger had understood, listened to him and his fast beating heart. Yeosang wished for nothing more than living on with San, to be at peace with his fate. 

San’s hands ripped his white cloak open and Yeosang felt the sudden rush of hot air meeting his back, hissing when the open wounds were exposed to it. His blood pumping way to hard through his veins, body screaming in pain, yet he pressed a kiss against San’s head, the damp strands tickling his nose. 

With a last breath he freed one of his hands and placed it on San’s head, the flow of his magic almost immediately stopping San from moving, just low whimpers leaving his mouth, dark marks angrily pulsating and fighting against his intrusion. The connection between Yeosang’s and San’s body where made in an instant, and even though it felt utterly wrong to invade someone’s body, Yeosang knew better than to withdraw. 

Instead he felt the flash of white going past him, suddenly shining so bright he had to close his eyes, noticing too late that his eyes had been closed since he had begun the ritual. The white was all around him, so very present, as if there had been never something different. Everything just – white. The comforting weight of his own magic around them. 

“Ich, der Ich hier stehe, erhöre meine Gebete oh Gott der über mich wacht. Dieser Mensch, so rein und treu, wurde beraubt seines Verstandes.“   
(I, the one who stands before you and wishes you would listen to my words, the god who watches over me. This human, so pure and loyal, was robbed of his own consciousness.) 

Yeosang’s voice resonates back in the white void he stood in, no echo, no sounds – just his voice. He wanted to see where he was, to explore the unknown but had to hold his instinct back, felt the guilt well up in him at the almost slip up. He couldn’t risk it.

“Er, der heute hätte sein können, der, der morgen noch er selbst gewesen wäre, liegt nun zu meinen Füßen, in seinem Inneren eine Macht so stark, er zu wiederstehen reiche nicht.“   
(He, the one he could have been today and who could have been himself tomorrow, lies now at my feet while an entity possessed him, one so strong, he is incapable of withstanding.)

Something vibrated and Yeosang had grate trouble standing on his feet while not stopping the ritual, could barely keep standing. His voice wavered for a moment. 

“Ich, der ich gesegnet worden bin mit eurer Macht, stellvertretend diese zu nutzen, sehe, dass dieser Mensch ein Opfer war, angetrieben von arglistiger Täuschung. Von einer Macht so stark, ein einfacher nicht imstande die Gefahr zu erblicken, sich ihr abzuwenden wenn gezeigt.“   
(I, the one who was blessed with your powers and was allowed to use them, see that this human was a victim, a victim of deception. The entity so strong, a simple person not able to see the danger, able to turn away when it is revealed.) 

A crack resonated through the white and Yeosang instinctively held his ears, covering them while jerking violently. The sound was so loud, it felt like something broke apart inside of his head and made him dizzy. 

The once white void began to change. A black mess started spreading from beneath his feet and began to paint the blank canvas in another single colour until nothing of its origin was left. Yeosang’s hands shook. The once pure white had faded into a pitch black void, tainting and letting what once had been fading. The backlash from the sudden change made Yeosang stumble, feeling weird with being surrounded by black. Had everything he loved in this life had always been white. 

His mentor had never mentioned this part, whatever it was, Yeosang had to pull through. 

For San.

In the moment he wanted to speak up again was he shaken once more before he was blinded, putting an arm over his eyes for only a second. Something flashed by, gone so fast, Yeosang had no time to make out what it was. Just then another one, and one more. Bright, colourful images against the black background, pulsating as if they were alive.

And maybe they were. Yeosang stopped for a moment and was able to see things he couldn’t decipher at first. Some bright, other grey – black and blue and against red and yellows, slowly coming together, mixing to harmonize.

What he thought had been images where something way more heavy, the importance so great, it made his heart weak. 

He was seeing San’s memories. All of them. The memories San was remembering often, going back to those he deemed as important. And Yeosang saw them as if they had been purposely showed to him. Never, in all of his life’s, had he ever seen something similar. Something so fantastic yet horrific. 

Was San reminding himself of all the memories he had made? Was it a wakeup call to himself?

Yeosang braced himself, ignoring the glimmering memories he had no right to see anyways, they weren’t his. Tried to close his eyes but noticed that the act of closing changed nothing. 

He had to concentrate. 

“So erhört mich dort, sehet auf uns herab und steht mir bei, um diese arme Seele von einem Seelenfresser zu erlösen.“  
(So please, listen to my voice and watch, so I can release this poor soul from its demon.)

Yeosang’s voice thinned out. The void grew silent, his eyes darting from one side to the other, watching closer, taking in everything which could potential showcase a success. Silence.

The memories who had been so blinding a minute ago were now fading out, melting with the darkness all around. And a part of Yeosang wished he would have seen more of San’s memories in hope to see the ones, where Yeosang played an essential part. Had to scold himself that he shouldn’t think this way and shouldn’t pry where his nose didn’t belong. Only watched when the last fragment of colour disappeared, swallowed by the void. 

And for an eternally long time nothing happened, the black void surrounding him as the thick mass it was, and for a hot moment he thought it was grabbing for him, felt something brush his ankle just lightly. 

However, it came different. 

The void was suddenly washed away, dropping down in thick drops and vanishing mid-air, some of them almost hitting Yeosang in the process. Just with great dodges was he able to escape getting drowned in one, heart thumbing loudly in his chest. It looked like the void was melting. 

Then he saw it. The familiar white coming back, replacing the darkness once more, his body immediately resonating back with it. Closing around him in a comforting manner.

The demon had fought back, and was banished. Yeosang laughed in relieve. Felt the happiness was washing through his body and couldn’t believe he actually done it. He had performed an exorcism and it worked, without potions or the help of his mentor. Yeosang had done it all alone. 

His fingers vibrated in excitement, his heart beating in sheer happiness that he wanted nothing more to immediately hold onto his beloved and tell him sweet nothings.   
To hold him close-

With a sudden push he fell backwards and the scenery changed, the white replaced, no, cut through. The battlefield around him submerged. Yeosang was back, out of San’s body – out of his mind. 

But the body wasn’t in his grasp any longer. 

No, a few meters away from him stood the man he loved and Yeosang’s heart broke. In a way it could never be repaired. 

San had lost the fight. 

Yeosang had failed. 

The man he had once found in a garden so beautiful arranged, he had fallen for on the spot, drawn to this magical being even if the other was none of the kind. Had lost himself countless times in the dark pools, the dark orbs with the slight red tint, the eyes which had followed and loved him greatly. 

The man he had shared his time with – his life. The one he had sworn to hold onto for as long as he was to be, for the time they would be able to have with each other. Hands clasped and bodies tangled. 

The man he shared sleepy cuddles with and told quiet simple nothings in the dead of the night, who spooned his body when he became restless and worried for his health when he didn’t eat. 

The man who had never wanted more than Yeosang’s love and safety. 

This very man… was no longer?

Yeosang could only stare in shock, his heart no longer beating but holding on, no breath leaving his lungs. 

For a moment he hoped that he was hallucinating, simply seeing an illusion produced by his own mind because of the stress he had been exposed to. Felt the despair grow in his body when he clearly felt how San’s previous presence, this warm and gentle aura, had been completely erased. 

As if San had never existed. 

Gone. Just- gone. 

The place inside of his heart, it felt so empty, so… lonely. 

As if void replaced the part which had been San’s before. The part he had never seen for someone else, the part of Yeosang’s love only meant for this one man.   
Gone. 

And the rows to next to San’s too. All of San’s previous lifetime’s, one by one, seemed to disappear inside of Yeosang’s heart and he crumbled. The walls of his heart crumbled so violently down, there was nothing left of him. Or them. 

It was an emptiness Yeosang had never felt before, not in any of his previous life’s. Like all the memories he had made with each different rebirth, shared and treasured – sometimes hated – were gone in a blink of an eye. 

Blotted out of existence. 

Eyes stared him down with such intensity, Yeosang wanted to crawl away, to cry for help but he couldn’t move, his body frozen in place. Time ticking so slow. Just the demon and him, and no one else. 

Those eyes were cold, ice cold. A shiver running down his spine, hands grasping at the ground for support while the demon stood still.

The San he had known was gone. The demon had won. Even though his outer appearance hadn’t changed all that much, was is still not the same. 

San was a collected, warm human with the brightest smile, with eyes full of longing and desire yet never addressing such selfish wishes, instead caring in his very own way.   
This was no longer him. 

In front of him stood a demon through and through. The black marks had manifested, embedded into San’s skin and glowed dangerously, pulsating in a sickening manner. 

“San-?” He whispered into the air, slowly outstretching a hand. Because his mind understood what happened, that his San was no longer but his heart? His heart clenched painfully. 

“Who?” 

Yeosang’s heart broke in a thousand pieces, thick tears welling up and streaming down his face. Drops falling to the ground, getting absorbed by the ground. The demon’s voice was so low, raspy, deep – in no way close to San’s lovely one. 

“Why.” He whimpered in pain, in ache of the spreading void in his body. “Why.” The places once filled with vibrant memories now nothing more than black canvases, the previous glory completely ruined. “Why.” Yeosang muttered in utmost despair. 

If not even San was left, who was? All those memories he had never wanted but gotten back nonetheless, memories he had painfully accepted and took his learning out of them – they were no longer. 

With whom had he sailed the wide sea if it weren’t with Hongjoong, his one and only pirate? 

With whom had he shared the most precious time before war had taken his life it weren’t with Yunho?

With whom had he a love-hate relationship he would have never escaped from yet new that deep down they had never been bad to him, if those two weren’t Jongho and Mingi?

With whom but not Seonghwa could he have started all this, while Wooyoung had begged him countless times to not be so dumb? 

And where all these lifetime’s in between not worth anything? Had they not deserved to stay his precious memories? Even if they hurt him so much?

Yeosang crumbled. And the demon just stood and watched, those black eyes drilling holes into his body while he could do nothing more than cry, bitterly cry. Tears so warm he wanted to yell for help, for anyone to take the pain away yet no words left his throat. His ability to speak gone with every passing tear.

Never had he felt such despair. 

And for an seemingly endless time was he crying, clawing his heart in pain, not noticing a single thing happening around him. It was just Yeosang and the pain growing steadily in his chest, taking over his head. 

Yeosang was deaf to Youngjo’s yells, to the words which had never failed in waking him up. Couldn’t feel how the heat around them was still very much a thing and a threat. Was unaware of Wonyoung’s sickening laugh and Hwanwoong’s pained cries. 

For the last time, he wanted this cycle to end, to be stopped. To forget anything and everything.

He wanted to die-

“Yeosang.” 

It was a quiet whisper. Yeosang’s head snapped up. 

San. 

It was San’s voice calling for him, it was there reaching for him. And Yeosang extended his arm and grasped for it, trying to get closer to the voice he loved so much. Vision blurred and unsteady but still trying to open and see. 

His eyes met the ones from the demon, in them still the same icy glare. But now, underneath this masquerade, there was something, someone, still fighting. 

A small fire lit up in his chest. Just so small someone could overlook if not watching carefully, however, Yeosang saw it – felt it. So deep within him, it was there, slowly rising and growing, never stopping. 

It felt like the void inside of his soul became cracks, splitting and revealing what had been previously covered. Through the pain and despair, deep down, in a place no one knew, a feeling resurfaced so greatly, it made Yeosang choke on his tears. 

“San!” He cried out, seeing how the demon flinched at his voice. “Fight back! It is not too late yet!”

Hands flinched, balling into fists, vibrating with the intensity they were closed. 

“Remember our memories together, the time we spent being happy!” 

Pulsating marks aggressively leaking darkness and void, a magic so powerful it hurt when it came into contact with Yeosang’s body. His magic instantly fighting back and he gritted his teeth.

“Remember the first day I saw you, was it not special for you and I?!” 

A pained cry echoed back on the battlefield and while neither Yeosang nor the demon had visibly cried out, fell the demon on it’s knees, clawing his head, ripping at San’s brown hair. 

“The nights we spent in the mansion? The hours of just us and no one else? Because I remember- so very clearly! Even through the darkness tainting those memories, I could never forget the truth! My true feelings!” 

Yeosang’s eyes were filled with tears and through them it was hard to tell what was happening around them but he kept going, ignoring what scene was unfolding behind him. Mind locked on those warm memories flooding back into place and were rearrange until everything was in its rightful place again. 

“The time where we walked in your garden and talked, for hours just us two, and in the end you took my hand for the very first time. Do you remember? I was so happy, in so much delight I thought my heart would jump out of my chest.”

The demon shook it’s head, trying to drown out Yeosang’s voice which got louder each time, with the words flowing out of his mouth. 

Shaking himself when he remembered those intense feelings he had no knowledge of but felt them nonetheless, feelings he had wanted to drown in from the very moment he had seen San standing so beautifully in front of him. Those eyes, this smile, warmth radiating from his entire being. Yeosang had helplessly fallen for him, and he had to remind San again that even if their love might have been fate mingling with their lives – they were still their own people. 

Yeosang loved San as the man he is. 

No matter how many times they were reborn, right now he was the Yeosang who learned from the great white sorcerer Ravn, and San was this wonderful boy who was raised by the most amazing grandmother he had ever encountered. No fate and no curse could possibly change it. 

“No matter what this demon is telling you-“ 

Yeosang fell forwards when something hit his body and dirt was pushed into his face, needed a moment of orientation before he spoke. 

“You are you! I love you for who you are, and not what you have been! I do not care-“

The pressure over him intensified. Yeosang had to gasp for breath, barely seeing something beside the ground and the shadows merging behind his blurred vision. 

“I- ah- I do not care who you have been- or, ugh, what you have done. All I want-“ 

It penetrated his skin. Something was invading his skin. Not something, Yeosang knew this power all too well. Black magic was taking over his body and where once had been pain, all he could feel was the numbness of his own body, every sensation lost in the wind. As if his body was merely existing without a reason. His own magic fading so easily, it made his mind spin. 

“-is you!”

Yeosang tried to outstretch his hand, to grasp for the demon who kneeled meters away from him, shaking so violently. Felt the fight San was having resonating in his own body but Yeosang couldn’t response, his body not listening to him anymore. His body fell slack. 

Somewhere on the battlefield cried someone his name out, and even if he heard it, there was nothing he could do to response. 

All he could focus on were the memories resurfacing and washing over him, yet getting corrupted in his very own mind. The black magic working it’s way into his body without mercy and changing those happy emotions into bad ones – memories he would never claim as his own. But his mind was manipulated. It felt like he was torn apart, the very core of his being, of what had defined him. 

Even his own magic wasn’t able to keep this power away from him. 

Just with his last resort did Yeosang clung himself to one last memory not yet tainted. 

The day San had told Yeosang that he loved him. 

Before it vanished in front of his eyes, replaced with a memory he felt incapable of looking at. 

“Yeo-“ 

The demon shouted, screamed so loudly it must have stopped the battle for a few second because the clear desperate sound in it was heart-breaking.

“Yeosang, you too! Do not let him consume you!” 

It was San’s voice speaking out of the demon. Yeosang wanted to sob, felt his heart clench so hard at hearing his love’s voice again, being able to hear him one last time but he couldn’t speak. Wanted to tell San that was here and trying, fighting alongside him but it was so hard. So exhausting. 

After everything he had went through with every moment of pain so very vividly playing in his head – he wished for nothing more than silence. An eternal silence. For once his beating und pulsating white magic had become silent, not rushing through his ear or a feel of power grasping his heart. Only Yeosang and his numb body and the tears running down his face while it was still pushed into the ground. 

The magic within mingled with his mind, invaded even the smallest space and changed things around as if they were play toys and noting more. As if every fibre and every vessel became tainted while bringing him one step closer to not feeling anything. 

Yeosang felt empty. Where his magic had once buzzed and pulsated through him was now silence, were it kept his mind running and his spirit up, did it let him down now. With losing his magic, it was like losing his life force. 

He was tired. Succumbing to the darkness spreading inside of his body felt so easy when he wasn’t able to control his white magic. So easy to give in into the temptation. 

“I remember.” San’s voice sounded desperate in his ears and Yeosang wanted to answer him, he really did. “All my lifetime’s! Yeosang, I remember!” 

His hand twitched, fingers dug into the ground beneath. 

San… remembered?

Everything? Anything? 

Yeosang let out a shaky breath. 

Deep down he wondered where his fighting spirit had went. Had he always been so weak? No, Yeosang wasn’t weak, had never been. He closed his eyes, feeling the darkness within him roaring at his sudden change of heart. The black magic desperately clawed into him, trying to hold him and his spirit down, to make him deaf to San’s pleading words. But Yeosang listened, felt how his fingers clawed the ground strongly, his bones close to breaking. 

San was fighting and yet still remembered their past lifetime’s? Felt all those pained memories and kept going? Yeosang felt miserable. Had he not thought about giving up just mere seconds ago? Submitting to the deep darkness washing into his body and numbing the white he had felt all his life, giving up what had defined him. What had been the solely reason he had met San. 

He hadn’t only given up a fight but also his very own magic – has become his own enemy. One of the worst betrayals. 

Yeosang had to fight. He could do it, must do it. San was still there fighting and Yeosang was here giving up. He could never forgive himself for ever thinking so weak. 

It was hard, oh so hard to even push on of his arms up let alone both, shaking so hard that every breath hurt painfully so. His throat let out a whistling sounds and his ribcage threatened to collapse with every try to fill his lungs but he shook his head, pushing up his upper body. Ignoring the piercing needles he seemed to swallow after every breath. A whine left his mouth when the darkness within tried to pull him down, to make him succumb and give in, wanting him to become their little puppet in a game meant for him to lose. 

He wouldn’t let himself be pushed around any longer, not when there was still hope. Saw white behind his eyes when he felt the darkness pierce him, eyes rolling back for a second and he fell again. This time, however, he fought back, made his body go through the pain and cried out, still never stopping until he somewhat laid on his back. Wailing when the striking pain shot through his back at every try to move his shoulders. Yeosang never felt something like this before. And he had quite a few of these experiences the past few weeks. 

Yeosang tried to feel for his magic or for any left over power to help him but the response was zero. 

It felt so utterly wrong. 

Yet, he pushed his body to it’s limits, had to with gritted teeth and sweat rolling down his face. It took a couple of tries before he was on his side and with the last bit of his power, did he push his upper body up until he was somewhat seated on his bottom while breathing erratically. 

The darkness was still there, deep within and all around. Yeosang felt its presence as much as he didn’t feel his own magic. His mind, however, was blinded by pain and the irrational thought of wanting to live on with San, even though he knew it was almost unlikely. 

Yeosang tried to feel for his feet, legs, anything beneath his butt but there was nothing, just the feeling of pure numbness and even when he placed a shaky hand on his thigh did he feel nothing. In his state of mind, however, he couldn’t register the meaning behind it and instead tried to brush away the tears. Saw through the vail of shed tears how San was trashing, holding onto his own head while shaking so violently. Yeosang wanted to say something, anything, but the darkness inside swallowed every word and every meaning, leaving nothing more than whimpers to leave his mouth. 

“It is- okay.” Yeosang hears San call out in between his own pained cries. “It is okay- I hear… hear you, Yeosang.” 

This shared bond, the pain they bad both to endure was so strong, Yeosang couldn’t possibly believe that San was actually able to hear him through everything – that his inner voice was radiating loud enough to be heard on the other end. That San could understand him even though his voice was failing him so greatly. 

Something suddenly slumped against his back and Yeosang jerked at the pain shooting through, whimpering when he believed he would be folded in half. Darkness interweaved, powers washing over him. And found himself wishing the numbness back. 

A moment later vanished the weight and Yeosang could breath again. Two warm hands pressed on his back, skin to skin where San had ripped his clothing. The contradiction of power within him responding to the touch and even through the tears and pain, he felt the familiar feeling running through his senses. A touch, a presence he had known for years now. Yeosang felt an indescribable feeling inside of his chest when the other kneeled behind him. 

It was as if his body was soothed, calmed down and he fell back into the touch, giving in just for a second. For a single moment was the raging war inside of him put to rest. The familiar warmth of white spreading through his tainted body, covering what had changed inside. Until the touch was gone as fast as it had appeared. 

With the pain now numbed down a little, Yeosang turned his face around, only to see how Youngjo had been pulled back by his hair, a demon clawing it tightly. Yeosang gulped when he saw the fire in Youngjo’s eyes, the determined soul who was so unchangeable Youngjo. The whole thing happened in mere seconds and it was hard to follow in his slightly delirious state, but the outcome was visible. Youngjo had thrown the demon into the flames, piercing its body with a white blade which appeared in his hands and sliced it trough, before the demon was even able to meet the ground. 

Yeosang turned away. Deep down he knew the imagine of Youngjo would be burned into his memory forever. The image of a bleeding, hurting Youngjo who was fighting at his side, enduring all of the backlash of using his power while withstanding the demons all around. Holding their backs free from the creatures of the night. Saw the cuts on his cheeks and the blood running down from his forehead – Yeosang would never forget. Recognized in those few seconds that his mission wasn’t watching but retrieving for what they all where battling for. Now - after the powers had calmed inside of his body, those powers not yearning for his attention anymore and filling out his mind – he could finally see and feel what was going around. 

How the battlefield had evolved. The flames, thankfully, didn’t seem to spread anymore but the shadows merging within were still there, watching and glaring through the hot blaze. Demons with intense powers were scattered all around, Yeosang could feel them but he didn’t dare to look out for those, instead heard Hwanwoong yelling, probably at Wonyoung. Screams and grunts echoing over the battlefield, roaring of powers which clashed and fought, no side wanting to give up. No backing away anymore. 

In between all this mess, Yeosang slammed his fist on the ground. Frustrated about the outcome of it all. In despair that nothing could have been prevented. Furious because the people closest to him where hurting due to his mistake. 

But he dwelled enough, shook his head when once again San’s pained voice echoed over the battlefield. 

“Don’t lose- don’t lose hope!” 

In his voice was so much willpower, such strength, Yeosang was paralyzed for a second, not able to comprehend how San could be so strong in a situation like this. While Yeosang had practically run through every emotion since the battle had started. 

Then he fell forward and clawed the ground, and with the last bit of strength left in his body did Yeosang crawl. Not caring what happened to him anymore. The only thing on his mind was how he could possibly save his loved ones. 

Helping San. Getting that demon out of his body. He had to- he wanted his beloved back. Wanted the people fighting for him back safely at his side. 

So, he crawled, ignoring the pain he felt while his body dragged over the ground, staining his already dirtied clothes even more. Ignored how his useless legs were dragged after him. The pain numbing his body even more. Yeosang’s eyes where solely set on the man on the ground in front of him, his hunched over form trembling strongly. 

San. 

Centimetre for centimetre he dragged himself closer, seeing how San had lifted his head when he called him- through their bond. Yeosang outstretched his hand in a desperate move to finally reach him.

And San was reaching for him also, his hand outstretched. Just a few centimetres where between them before San fell slack, a sick cracking sound resonating. 

Yeosang arm fell. And their fingertips touched. 

Panicked flooded him. 

He grabbed for San’s hand and used his other hand to crawl further until he was laying face to face with the beautiful human on the ground. Yeosang told himself he wouldn’t fall into despair, not again, but why was San not moving? Through their bond Yeosang felt that he was alive, that San was breathing but his powers, his magic, it wasn’t resonating anymore and neither was the darkness within him. As if their intertwined hands meant nothing. Neither the powers within Yeosang nor the powers within San reacting to them anymore. 

Yeosang stared at San, and fell deaf to everything around them. 

Because no matter in which life and whom he would be lying across from, San would always be San. The brown hair, his lovely eyes, the one of a kind melodic voice. Even if he lost San, in his memories would always be the one he loved present, no matter what changed. 

Then, as if his words where calling for the other, opened San his one eye and Yeosang’s breath hitched- because it was back to his own brown eye. The other one pressed close against the ground. The black and red had faded, and for a moment he couldn’t believe it. San was back to him? Yeosang wanted to call him, to tell him that he did well and that they should rest but no words left his mouth, only his hand tightening around San’s. 

It was the other who broke their shared stare to blink slowly and it seemed like San had to refocus his eye to see clearly, to tell who was lying with him on the ground while holding his hand. When he did, however, was Yeosang rewarded with a smile. A smile he had missed so much. The smile he had thought he lost more than once. 

“Hey.” San’s voice was raspy, broken but nonetheless his own. If Yeosang had tears left to cry he would shed them, though there were none left. So, Yeosang tried to smile back at him. Saw how San’s eye brightened up just a bit. 

San’s marks where still there but they weren’t pulsating anymore. Almost as if they were nothing more than tattoos adoring his beautiful body, inked into the flesh with utmost care. 

Their fingers linked. Yeosang let out a shaky breath at the feeling of San’s warm finger against his and in aw when he felt the strength behind the grip. As if San was afraid he would lose Yeosang. For moment they watched each other without missing a heartbeat before his beloved used his free arm to push himself up, wobbling a little but successful nonetheless. Yeosang stared in shock when he saw red drops falling down from San’s head but the other just smiled carefully, balancing himself with one arm. 

Yeosang felt the tug on his arm only when he was actually pulled closer while the ground beneath made the drag painful, let he San pull him as much as he wanted. Only when he practically laid in front of his beloved did Yeosang try to push himself up which ended in him falling into San’s embrace. 

And Yeosang wanted to cry at the touch. Because this warmth, this safety- he had almost lost it. The love he desired so much. The one and only San, the man he had fallen for so many months ago, had almost died out of his reach. But here he was, his two arms circling around Yeosang and holding him tight. He himself held onto San as tight and the wish of never letting go washing through him. 

This was where he belonged- and nowhere else. With San, in his arms and around him. There was not a place better than where he was right now. With each life they had different circumstances on which they met or never saw each other once, yet they had always found back to one another. And this time he wasn’t ready to let go. 

So, Yeosang let himself fall deeper into the touch, into the embrace he had almost lost. 

“Yeosang.” 

San whispered into his hair and he couldn’t stop the shiver running down his spine. Trying to memorize every word and every difference in tone, even if it was broken and rough.

“Listen to my heart beating, my love.” 

And he did, pressing even closer against his chest and salvaging every beat of his heart because Yeosang was so sickly aware that he had almost lost it.   
“I am here. I made it and you made it as well, I am so proud of you. We did it.” 

Yeosang wanted to agree, to tell San as well how proud he was and how hopeful he suddenly felt after knowing San remembered everything- that San wouldn’t commit a sin. That he would prevent it from happening. Yet, he couldn’t form the words in his mouth. So, he just nodded once, twice before he pressed a kiss against his chest, hoping his love would understand the gesture. 

He winced when he heard a pained scream echoing over the battlefield and finally breaking the bubble he had put himself into. Because they were still in battle. People where still fighting for them and for everyone inside of the village. Yeosang wanted to push himself up but San hindered him, his arms not moving at all so Yeosang turned his head on San’s chest, his eyes narrowing down. 

He wanted to help Youngjo and Hwanwoong. Wanting to cleanse Wonyoung if possible. 

But he would never come this far.

Because in front his eyes stood the demon which had possessed San earlier. And the demon looked pissed. So angry and infuriated, Yeosang couldn’t look away. 

Those red eyes making him shake in San’s grip which only tightened more, the younger must have seen the demon as well. Both of them knew that the demon would have an easy way with them, the clothes and the full appearance speaking for itself. 

With an annoyed grunt stepped the demon closer and Yeosang felt the blood run cold in his veins. How many times had he escaped death today? Was this the finality of this life? 

Yet, before the demon was able to strike them- it slowed down. 

Yeosang couldn’t believe his eyes when the demon froze in his movement and felt how San began to shake as well, nudging him to lift his head. With an uncertain gulp did he push himself up and looked around, saw what San had wanted to show him. 

Everyone and everything had frozen. Both the demons and the flames, the heat but also the wind- nothing seemed to move. Until his eyes fell on two figures he knew all to well. Two people he trusted with his life, facing each other in a frozen battlefield. 

Hwanwoong stood. His clothes where stained in red due to blood, in black remnants of the demons and dirt. Youngjo on the other hand was sitting down, holding onto his throat with one hand but the red liquid pouring out seemed infinity. His hand and the clothes where tainted in his own blood yet he noticeably ignored his own wound and looked up at his lover instead. 

In between them, just an arm length away from both man, laid the slain body of Wonyoung. Her arm was twisted in a weird way and her form was already starting to disperse, black mist rising up in the air before vanishing comepletely. It took him a second to understand the bigger picture. Wonyoung was dead, beaten in her own game but her death had cost a huge price. Because Youngjo was bleeding so much, he would die because of it. The sheer amount of red oozing out between his fingers was proof enough, but Yeosang couldn’t stop hoping that his eyes tricked him. But they weren’t. The pain inflicted expression and the jerking of Youngjo’s body weren’t lying.

No healing spell could save him with such an injury, even less when they had no bottles with them. 

Yeosang first instinct was to help, wanting to reach but San held him back. He trashed in the younger’s grip, however, San was ruthless in keeping him. Because this person right there had practically raised him, saw him grew up and became even more than just a mentor to him. 

Youngjo was like a father to him. 

How could he stay calm when the men he owed so much was dying right in front of his eyes? The person he loved so deeply? On a level normally only families could achieve?   
But neither Youngjo nor Hwanwoong moved and the scenery around them was still frozen. The two were staring at each other, a secret conversation going through the two. And it was Hwanwoong who broke the eye-contact first with closing his eyes, tears silently running down his cheeks. Yeosang saw, through the despair he felt and the heart clenching truth he would have to face, that Youngjo was smiling. Knowingly smiling. That whatever they had agreed on made him smile in satisfaction. 

Neither of the two looked at them, searched their gazes to see if Yeosang or San where watching but Yeosang was sure the two were aware of their presences. However, that the two of them were the only ones not frozen told him that either of the two had casted a spell. 

Over the distance between them Yeosang could understand the words Hwanwoong was apparently muttering but Youngjo’s eyes glinted, shimmering in a way Yeosang would probably never understand. Because this was a connection he wasn’t part of. 

The moment Hwanwoong opened his eyes, was the moment Yeosang knew something was wrong. They were shining in the brightest blue and the tears shimmered in their light. Regret. In Hwanwoong’s eyes was nothing left but a look of regret. Youngjo never looked away. His eyes were filled with an emotion while looking at Hwanwoong Yeosang knew all too well: love. 

And then everything happened so quickly and strong, Yeosang would find himself later questioning what had happened because his unfailing memory couldn’t remember. Light appeared, so distinctively white Yeosang had never seen such a white before- it was warm and calming but at the same time as wild as the open sea. 

The light pierced Youngjo. 

Yeosang yelled. 

Within seconds fell Youngjo to the ground, his body glowing and pulsating before slowly dispersing. It only took a couple of seconds before the body, his mentor, had fully disappeared and only leaving his clothes behind. Yeosang trashed again, couldn’t believe what he saw yet the men around him was frozen in shock. The light had poured into Hwanwoong who jerked at the intrusion. 

Hwanwoong was shaking, the hand with which he had controlled the light fell back to his side and the cry was the most pained one he had ever heard. One only could let out when they lost the person most precious to them. 

Yet, Hwanwoong turned to them, his bright blue eyes staring back. Yeosang wanted to yell once more, demand an explanation but no words where formed, the sole despair in his heart taking over. 

His mentor was no longer. 

And it was as if he heard Hwanwoong’s voice in his head, telling him that everything was over now. That his pain would finally find its end. That they would be free. 

With the light suddenly surrounding them, Yeosang could only glance one last time at Hwanwoong who seemed to merge with the lightning before he fell unconscious, his brain shutting down. 

Everything was black. Wherever he tried to look, to turn his head to, did he see nothing more than darkness. No light source, no ending, as if he was imprisoned in the void of nothingness, destined to never find a way out. And for a while, there was no escape. 

Within the realms of this nothingness, he lost sense of time and place completely. Where was he and how long had been here? 

Yeosang felt like he was floating. There was no pain in his body, no numbness or itch which could have given him a clue- or at least a feeling. Because what ever had happened to him, he lost all memories of it with only his name remaining. Yet, he knew something great was missing deep within. That there was a place where something should be but was left behind empty. A thing he must have forgotten. 

At some point shone light on his face and Yeosang stirred in his sleep, not having the strength to open his eyes. Finger twitching and muscles slowly waking up, yet it took a while before his brain registered that he had woken up, still so deep within the depths of his subconsciousness that it almost felt like he was dragged into life again. As if his own mind hadn’t be where it should have been. Body sluggish and weak, he tried to turn his body but he didn’t come far, was stopped by pain shooting through his body. A whimper left his move and he jerked but his eyes stayed close, so he laid still, not wanting to feel it again. Breathing with utmost care to not move too much. 

But with every passing minute he woke up a little more, the vail of sleep slowly lifting and with every passing minute he came back to himself a little more. To whom he was. To who he had been. To what had happened. It still felt so far away almost like a dream, however, his subconsciousness told him otherwise, whispered bittersweet truths into his ear. Yeosang didn’t want to listen, concentrated on his own body instead though he was not able to feel more than numbness. 

For the longest time Yeosang didn’t dare to move his body, to scared what might await him when he would actually open his eyes. To be confronted with the truth. 

The last thing Yeosang remembered was that they had been on a battlefield fighting for San to not give in and commit a sin. To make the demon within San vanish. And they had succeeded. Together they had broken San free from the possession of the demon. 

Yeosang felt how a single tear rolled down his cheek at the thought of him lying on the ground next to San. How the younger had pushed himself up and cradled Yeosang when nothing was left within him, held him tight against his chest even though San was aching and broken. How he had whispered that they had done it, survived the maddening demon only to see the threatening shadow loom over them once more. 

Remembered how he had clung to San one last time, thinking it was their last moment alive once more. Brazing himself for a new round of living when suddenly time seemed to stand still and everyone moved in the slow motion. Was able to throw a glance around to see Hwanwoong standing a little away from Youngjo, in his eyes a look of regret. Wonyoung laid between them while slowly starting to disperse, having fallen at their hands yet neither of the man seemed to celebrate. 

Then- what? Yeosang could only remember a shining, so blindingly bright light filtering through everything and anything in its way. 

The next thing he could remember was waking up. 

Was he dead? 

Yeosang tried to move his hand and let his fingers grace whatever was beneath them. It felt soft. If heaven was soft, then he must have died, which was an irrational thought even with a chaotic mind. 

And then it crashed down on him. He was a fallen angel. Yeosang could never get back into heaven. His soul was bound to the very earth and relive his live time after time. So where was he when not dead? 

Something creaked open not far from him and Yeosang held his breath, trying to listen. Sounds like footsteps echoed back and Yeosang assumed he was in a room by the sound he heard, until the footsteps came to an halt. 

“I know you are awake, why do not open your eyes?” 

Yeosang jerked involuntarily. Fast beating heart and fingers digging into the fabric underneath his body. But then his brain finally caught up and remembered, could recognize the voice he had heard for years. 

Slowly he followed the request and opened his eyes, even though he had to close them again due to the brightness he wasn’t used to. The chuckle he heard warmed his heart and so he gave it another try, wincing when the light still hurt his eyes but pulled through, surprising himself that he was seeing a white ceiling. So Yeosang was really in a room. 

After a minute of reorganizing his thoughts and his eyes getting used to the light, heard he the footsteps again before a face popped up in his view. Two warm brown eyes looked back down on him while raven black hair fell down, framing the face with the small smile so well. 

“Take your time. There is no need to rush anything.” Her voice was soothing, almost like a balm for the soul. Oh, how he had missed her. Seeing Seunghee must mean he wasn’t dead. 

Seunghee brushed his hair out of his face, smiling once more before she stepped back and shuffled around the room. Yeosang enjoyed to listen to her rustling and doing things around him, it made his mind forget what had previously happened. Whom they had fought. And pushed the thought of the end of the battle away. The knowledge he had to face the truth as soon as he sits up. 

But when Seunghee comes back and helps him sit up, is Yeosang faced with the bitterness that is life. A part of his memory was missing. Still he was here, alive and apparently without missing anything major. For a moment his head was spinning, the sat up had been to fast and his body was still so weak, that Yeosang felt nauseous. Seunghee stabilized him until Yeosang gestured her that he was fine. 

Before he could ask or be asked did she put a glass with water into his hand and helped him gulping down the cold liquid. Yeosang coughed at the feeling. He hadn’t noticed how dry his throat had been but the water felt burning hot now. With each gulp it cooled him down until the glass was empty and the thirst he hadn’t known he had felt was stilled. Seunghee smiled and took the glass out of his hand before she sat down on the edge of what he was sitting on- which apparently was a bed. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Her voice was soft, not stern nor accusing either and even the worry in her voice was masked well. 

“Beaten up. Dragged through hell and back.”

He rasped out and winced at his own voice. It sounded strained. Broken. 

“Understandable, a lot has happened.” She nodded and her black hair fell a little in front of her eyes, Yeosang not able to see how she really felt. Though her voice was steady and not wavering. “Things have changed and we all are a part of it.”

“What happened?” 

“Depends on what you are asking about. Or who.” 

Yeosang felt a his blood run cold. Who? There was a question of who? That couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. In no way. He hoped his thought was nothing more than a simple thought. 

“How long have I… been unconscious?” 

“Around two weeks. We did not know how long you would be asleep for, so everyone was worried.”

“Everyone-?” He questioned, hoping to hear the names which mattered the most but she leaned away more, hiding her face. 

“We, the people in this mansion. You were not responding so of course we were worried.” 

“But what is with-“

Seunghee shook her head before she turned to him, her well crafted masquerade breaking when Yeosang saw the teary eyes she had. The woman who had always been strong was on the brink of crying. 

“This is not my story to tell, Yeosang.”

Yeosang was walked as fast as he could with the help Seunghee was providing. His mind was running. He vehemently tried to push away the despair he felt, not wanting to feel hopeless without seeing and hearing it for himself. The walk seemed endlessly, hallway after hallway, maids looking at him saddened eyes and the other people turning their head away when he passed them. Yeosang hated this. 

Then, finally, Seunghee gestured to a door he was all to familiar with. The door to his own room. Only a door separating him from whoever was waiting behind it. Seunghee looked at him for the last time before she pushed the door open and manoeuvred him inside. 

For a moment he stood still, watching the silhouette at the window. Yeosang’s heart swelled. 

“San.”

The name was nothing more than a whisper but the room was quiet enough for the other to hear it. The silhouette turned around and Yeosang began to sob in relief, his legs buckling underneath. San was looking back at him. His San. The one and only. 

It was a reunion. Yeosang stumbled into the San’s body, feeling the warmth pressing at him and the certainty washing through him that San was alive. Was doing well, was breathing, had been eating. 

That Yeosang hadn’t lost him. That in one of his lifetime’s he hadn’t been separated from his beloved. 

Bodies pressed close and words of love were shared within the walls he called his for years. Seunghee had left at some point but neither had noticed. They were in their own world and allowed themselves to be in their little bubble for a while, to not care about the world, not question but ignore. 

“Why do you have a bandage over your eye?” 

Yeosang had wanted to ask from the very beginning but had been afraid. Knowledge seemed to fear him suddenly. 

“My eye was injured on the battlefield.” San whispered when he let his hand ghost over Yeosang’s arm and Yeosang fell against the chest, cuddled into the warm embrace. “It- it shattered. When the demon left my body, its catalyst was my eye. Exorcism on this level demands a sacrifice and in our case it was my eye.”

He hummed but wasn’t as shocked as he probably should have been. After everything they went through, it seemed like the least problem of theirs. 

“Then, what about-“

“Yeosang.” San interrupted him and Yeosang knew he shivered. Heart clenching. “Do you really want to know?” 

“I do.” 

Because Yeosang wanted to know. Needed to know. There was nothing he not wanted to know. Especially when two of the most important people in his life were still a big question in his mind. Where they alright? Alive? Or dead? Had anyone survived besides the two of them?

“When I woke up, we were lying on the ground in my village and the some of maids were with us, helping wherever they could. Apparently the fire was put out almost immediately after the fight had ended. No demons, no corpses.” 

San’s voice was barely above a whisper, still so close to Yeosang’s ear there was no way of him not listening to his beloved words. 

“No one knew exactly knew what had happened but the villagers were fine. The houses were fine. Nothing burned down, nothing broken down. It was as if the fight had never happened.”

“Nothing?”

“Yeah, nothing. Even though the dead stayed dead. Wonyoung went missing and a family was killed but besides them? No injured and everyone came home.” 

His voice cracked. 

“What is with-“

“Missing. Both of them.”

It was always the last walk which was the hardest. After all those years, he had thought at some point he would understand the questioning gazes and the words unspoken. What everyone talked behind their backs and what reality they seemed to believe. 

Even after years of trying to regain the lost memories, neither of them were ever able to access those which where lost. 

Living had been different ever since. 

The battle was later known as the ‘demonic invasion fought back by sorcerers’ and even found itself written down in history books, yet he could never read any of those parts. He was a living remnant, a fragment which had survived and lived on. 

So, who cared about what people thought, what people said. It was this last walk which was scariest thing ever since this fateful battle. A path he dreaded over and over again, but had to walk nonetheless. 

Because he knew fate by now so well, there was no need to go against it. Everything had its reason. Sometimes whose reason hurt more than others. Like this one. 

Only when he stood next to the bed, looking down at the frame with a barely moving rib cage, was he aware of what he would lose. And hopefully gain again. Placed his hand in the barely warm one, holding it tight. One last time, he told himself. He wanted to feel the life in the body one last time before he had to face a body without. 

Wished he could this unique energy once again yet he was aware his beloved had lost the ability for it a long time ago. But he had never though of any less after knowing he had changed after the battle. He was still the man he had fallen for and the person he had been a forced bond with for all eternity. A soul broken in two, only completed with one another. He had learned to love this bond. And the man he had been bonded with. 

But now, standing at his death bed, he had to think back at everything they had done together. In all those lifetime’s they had shared. It was a bittersweet farewell. 

He leaned down, pressing one last kiss to the forehead of his beloved while holding his hand. Remembering how the now white hair had been blond before. Only him knowing every little bit of the person dying in front of him. Just him having a special place in the heart of his beloved. 

One last time he called for his beloved, called him the sweetest nicknames even if he was aware that his words weren’t reaching him anymore. 

And while his beloved took his last breath he whispered:

“Can you love me again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for every single person who read this and was patient with me for the half of the year I needed to write this. I enjoyed this greatly and it was the first long chaptered story I ever finished, so this became a lot like my baby. 
> 
> Please don't turn away from this fic just yet, there will be two more extra chapters who will indulge in parts of the story which were planned but had no real place in the main story. So watch out for more!
> 
> Nylil made a pic for as a commission for this fic, please check it out:  
> [Commission CYLMA](https://twitter.com/SolreyItIs/status/1273015093807271939)
> 
> Again, thanks to everyone who was with me and supported me. Every single comment and every single kudo made me realize I was writing something people enjoyed reading. I know it wasn't perfect and I know I could have done it better, but currently at this point, I will leave it as it is. There will be a day when I edited the whole fic and erase some mistakes but until then I'm happy with how it turned out. 
> 
> I would love to hear your thoughts, leave a comment or hit me up on Twitter/CC and tell me how you liked the chapter.
> 
> With this I will now let this have its effect and return when I'm done with the extra chapters.
> 
> With love, Solrey.


	10. From wings which forgot how to fly and light shining so brightly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello it's me :3  
> Here we go, the first of the two extra chapters I promised. First up are Hwanwoong and Youngjo, or Rawoong.  
> Thank you guys so much for all the hits, kudos and bookmarks! It means so much to me ;-;
> 
> Heads up for this chapter: cursing, explicit character death, gore (shortly), inconsistent pov

When he had seen his first sunrise on earth - the sun barely peeking over the horizon - he had hated nothing more than anything the light touched. From the mountains in the south, to the wide ocean in the east, over the large fields till the ground his very own feet stood on. His anger knew no boundaries. Like a disease it spread through his body and corrupted his mind and soul.

Out of anger he slashed animals even though he would never become hungry. Ignored mother nature’s call when she called for him and destroyed her roots when she wanted to console him. Turned his back on the ones in need, as if their pained calls never reached him.

He cursed when a breeze was just a little too cold. Felt angry when a path he had wanted to take was blocked or off-limits without his wings. When all he could do was walk and walk and walk, while never finding a way out of his misery.

The pain on his back was just one of indicators of what had happened to him, and with every passing thought about it, became he angrier, fuelled by what once had been his greatest pride. The only thing he had ever felt called for.

Hwanwoong had fallen, and the fall had been deep.

What once had been so far away was now closer than ever, the ones he had sworn to protect from evil now so close yet so far. They would never know what he was, understand what greater purpose he had served before, where he could’ve been.

And for the longest time Hwanwoong had known that humans weren’t exactly the nicest creatures, even though they tried to be civilized.

Still, he was disgusted when he became directly exposed to them. Just their existence riled him up.

The worst thing of them all was the curse placed on his head. No, it wasn’t really a curse but to Hwanwoong it felt like one.

_“You condemned an angel without our word in this matter, cursed him even. I do not even want to know what has gotten into you. However, since we had to report this matter to the Olympus, a judgment was made.”_

_The other archangel didn’t dare to cross his eyes, lowered them to the roll of paper in its hands._

_“Our gods have spoken. From this day, you shall be ripped from the wings with which you were allowed to soar the sky, your voice shall never reach the gods again, the powers within never be used for any mishap. Brethren, a judgment over you was made. The angel you cursed is fated to live his life again and again until his other half fails to commit a sin, however, without your words of acceptance it is impossible for this to happen.”_

_The archangel took a breath even though they had no use for breathing._

_“You shall relieve your life until your grudge will disappear, and you can help the angel to move on.”_

Oh, how he hated every single word out of the mouth of his friend, _former friend,_ had he not repeated them again and again until every single word was burned into his brain, leaving a trail of hatred behind. Hwanwoong felt betrayed. By the other archangels, by his fellow angels, his friends but worst of them all were the betrayal of his gods, of the mighty he had sworn to give his best for.

Had he really fallen for them, deep down into a pitch-black hole without escape yet the condemned him? Hwanwoong had given his everything to please the gods, the ones who had created his very being and breathed life into his living form. Yet, they were so fast to toss him away.

It hurt.

And he was alone.

All the time he spent on earth was he alone.

That was the way how Hwanwoong lived the most part of his lifetime’s.

Yet his anger never calmed down, only fuelled more by the mere presence of humans. Just hearing their voices was enough to set him off for the longest time, had his poor excuses of feet carried him into the mountains far away from any human after centuries of trying to escape them. There he began to treasure the silence around him.

The fallen had escaped their grasp, after the wrath he had felt the first time they had caught him. And the second time, also on the third time. After the third time he had learned that using his powers where a death sentence for him as soon as a human saw it. Because that was the nature of these fragile creatures, they only knew how to fear the unexplainable while never trying to see behind it. While Hwanwoong had only been on the watching end for the longest time, had he been now inflicted by pain he has never known before; only experienced them after his falling.

What infuriated him even more than the human’s fear of the unknown was that they could do to him whatever they wanted, but in no lifetime was he able to give it back. If he were to hurt humans, Hwanwoong knew for sure, the gate to his utopia would be forever closed. For him, and only him. Those humans would be forgiven anyway. The gods always do. But him? Never.

His voice, his powers never able to hurt a single human. But theirs inflicted pain.

Hwanwoong had to endure their calls, their false rumours of him being a witch, comments said behind hands and inside of houses. He was furious, had tried to explain those lost souls that he was in no way something so lowly like a witch but an archangel instead, one of those creatures who always watched over them and where sent out if the gods said so. Yet, they called him a heretic. The one left by god, the one who had shared a bed with devil and danced with him on hellfire.

He began to hate humans even more the first time they caught him and burned him alive after a man had witnessed how he had resurrected an animal he had slaughtered because of his anger.

Those eyes. This hatred. It was the first time used against him and until the very end weren’t, he able to forget them – those stares dripping poison, so unchangeable and determined, he had known there had been no escape. Yet he had screamed at them when the first flames began to lick at his bare feet, the torn apart pants slowly catching fire. While those brave enough screamed back at him, made him at fault for all the misfortune they had to endure for winters now. Making him the bad guy when he had never come close, never seen them before. Hwanwoong had even been accused for kidnapping and slaughtering people all over the land yet had he never touched a single person before. For bewitching poor souls and cursing the ones who tried to call him out. Not that he could. Couldn’t even but what did they know? It was all easier to blame on a supposedly witch than open their eyes and see the truth in the eyes.

The man who shouted the loudest was the man who had committed such unspeakable crime, Hwanwoong saw it in the glint of his eyes, the way they mirrored the flames beneath his body. Yet this man wasn’t the only one amongst the crowds who had a secret to keep, a secret they all liked to make him burden for them. Not that it mattered. The humans around him where deaf to his words, and the stones flying his way said all he had to know. Humans where unchangeable.

At some point he lost consciousness. The flames so burning hot, they had turned his once healthy-looking skin into nothing more than black patches, his excrements running down his legs but gone so fast, the heat too strong for anything to survive its flames. Heavy burn blisters all over his body, flesh turning black. 

It didn’t take long until his last breath was taken, his corpse left by the accusers to burn to ashes, bones falling into the pile of ashes. Them glade to never see the witch again. However, none of them knew that Hwanwoong couldn’t die – not in a way a mortal does. Was he reborn farther away but not as a baby, no, angels weren’t born as babies. They took on the form they would keep forever.

And once he saw the sun above him, filtered through the trees and surrounded by the buzzing of life, did he curse everything again. Felt the anger he was filled with even stronger.

This happened three times.

Three times had he been accused of witchcraft and having made a deal with the devil.

Three times was his life to end by the hands of mere low creatures. By humans.

Three times he wished he could take them with him.

Only when he told himself that he could never use his powers again, not in close proximity of another intelligent being, was he safe of their wrath. Safe of the flames which began to haunt his dream and follow him into the real world. The sensation of fire, so close, it made him want to throw up, but there was nothing inside of him that could come out. The smell of his own burning flesh meeting his nose, making him cry so desperately because he wanted to forget them all.

In the end it was dreams, the witch hunting people had never laid a hand on him again. The dreams became his biggest pain.

In the mountains was he save.

In the deepest mountains had Hwanwoong build himself a hut, nothing to outstanding but enough to live comfortable inside of it. Even in the progress of building it had Hwanwoong never used his powers, instead he built it with his own abilities, and noticed fairly quick that it took a lot of time. Yet he finished it. Surprisingly, even to himself, was Hwanwoong happy and satisfied with the result.

It was enough to live alone for a few years, to keep his mind off about the things around him, his only companions the animals. And Hwanwoong was content this way. Of course, he never forgot the very reason why he had fallen and what his redemption needed, yet, Hwanwoong found himself unable to leave the place he had built for himself. The one and only home he had ever since the fateful day.

The anger he had directed so many times at the poor innocent souls around him vanished with each year living isolated, just the animals a steady companion on his lonely road. And they stayed as longs as their short lives allowed. It was almost as if he had built his own utopia.

One day, however, something inside of Hwanwoong told him that staying up there much longer wouldn’t end for him well, a dreading feeling so strong, it pained him deeply. Even the animals which had grown accustomed to him vanished so quickly that for the first time he felt fear. Fear about what was about to happen. What could end the peace he had built for himself.

So, he began a travel through the country once more. A few weeks after the departure heard he that his house had been burned down, set on flames from the humans who had wanted to banish a witch. Silently, he wondered how they had known but, in the end, it didn’t matter, was his life saved by a small feeling of knowing inside of him. Wondering how the animals could have potentially known, but maybe it had been the smell of death that oozed out of him which alarmed them.

It had been better this way.

Hwanwoong’s travel was a rather quiet journey.

Saw the forests grow and vanish, wide fallow land while other regions where drowning in rain. Felt the warm sun of the equator on his body and followed the stream of water until his feet where surrounded by the cold source of live. Bathed between mermaids and dolphins, was welcomed within the rows of elves to celebrate the new crowned king, and harmonized with the nymphs who sang lonely song. Met the creatures of the north’s lands while in other years his feet carried him to the south. What were years for him? They flew by so fast.

It was a journey on his own. A journey he enjoyed more than he had ever thought and learned on it to never look back.

Hwanwoong overcame his anger. It was a long way, a change he had never seen in himself, yet he started to enjoy the creations of life – the different races beside humans too. Saw that there was more than one selfish race on earth, and everyone was different, no one was the same. And all made mistakes, no matter how young or old they were.

Understood that his initial reaction had been one of those mistakes.

Was reminded that the creation of life was hard but never perfect – not even a former archangel like him was perfect. It took a brave mermaid to show him that even his gods weren’t perfect, no one was. A mermaid who saved him from his own demise, almost drowning when the ship he was on was about to go down, the waves breaking it in half while heavy rain made the woods slippery. Only the warm sunrays and a heartful laughed had woken him up, his saviour staying at his side for a while, until he had opened his eyes.

“Where?” Was all he could have gotten out that day, the water he had swallowed welling up and burning in his throat. However, the day went on in a way he would have never expected.

“A beach, I pulled you here.” A male serene voice spoke closely to him, a whisper at his ear before a hand shielded his eyes from the burning sun. “Take your time.”

For a while he laid there in the burning sand, feeling the cold ocean waves plashing against his lower body. One from the sun warmed body pressed against his side and only after his breath slowly calmed down did he look to the side again, felt how his heart skipped a beat at the sight.

Two brown eyes were looking down on him while black, slightly wet hair dangling on both sides of his face but it where the almost invisible scales on its cheeks that made him breath in sharply. A merman. Was there really a merman leaning above him?

“Do you want to sit up?”

The merman’s voice was soft, just a whisper above the breeze yet he felt his skin tingle with every syllable. Hwanwoong nodded slowly and the merman smiled a dazzling smile before he helped Hwanwoong sit up. It was the touch of their skins, one so burning hot while the other rather cooling, which made his heart rate accelerate. Because there was something between them, a feeling he had never experienced before yet found thrilling from the very first moment.

“Why did you safe me?” Hwanwoong muttered under his breath, body sweaty and hot, the sand underneath not helping him any further. His voice sounded incredible rough and it broke a little at the end.

“Do I need a reason to safe someone in need?” The merman smiled at him before slowly gliding back to the water. “We might have a bad reputation because of the humans, but do we not share the same fate here? Have you not been hurt by the likes of them before, even though you are nothing more than someone willed to live?”

The merman swam a few meters away from him, never breaking the eye-contact. Hwanwoong almost immediately scrambled closer to the sea, mesmerized, and fascinated by the black-haired merman.

“I hated them once. No, I hated everything on this forsaken land. But here I am, am I not?” Hwanwoong yelled back at the sea, saw the figure calmly swimming not all too far from him. “I changed; my opinion changed. And even though you did not know me, you saved me, for that I am grateful. My live belo-”

Just then splashed something loudly and within seconds where Hwanwoong wet once again, his eyes widened in surprise.

“Hey!”

Hwanwoong yelled back at the merman who just laughed bubbly, erupting tingles all over his body. And he wondered. Of course, the voices of merman and mermaids where serene and beautiful but had one ever had such an effect on him? Had Hwanwoong encountered such a mesmerizing being before? No, not that he could remember. 

And for a moment he just watched the merman vanishing and then coming up, breaking through the surface only to be laughed at again. Hwanwoong had met many different creatures on his journey, some more friendly than others and the sea folks where always a double-edged sword, while some where the innocent in person, would other kill whoever came too close. This one, however, seemed to be on the friendly side.

“Say, merman.” He called for the merman who stopped laughing, watching him with eyes barely above the water surface. With a small smile sat Hwanwoong down in the water, feeling how it came just up to his stomach. “What is your name?”

A mischievous glint flew over the merman’s eyes before he disappeared into the sea. For a moment he thought he had made the merman flee, vanish before he could possibly explore what made him so interested in the other. Didn’t understand why he felt so empty the moment the merman had disappeared back into the sea but wished for another conversation, long enough to see him once more.

Just then, he felt an almost slick hand on his tight and scales pressing against his bare legs before the merman’s head came up again, the wet hair sticking to his beautiful face. If the warm smile on his face was trying to tell him something, he for sure understood it. Or his heart. Probably more Hwanwoong’s heart. His brain shut down.

“My name, you ask?” A second hand landed on his legs and he couldn’t control the shiver running over his body. It was a feeling so unknown; he should fear it – instead, he chased for it, felt his mind clawing for more. “I have many names. Different race, different name.”

The merman almost purred and Hwanwoong could barely keep a moan in when the merman’s hands fell between his legs, caressing his sensitive skin there. Hwanwoong had never, not once, let someone touch him like this, so intimate and close, yet here was, letting a stranger touch him where human bodies were sensitive. A blush decorated his cheeks and the merman leaned his head to the side, mustering Hwanwoong with a curious look.

And caressed the place again.

“Yah! Stop it, will you!”

Hwanwoong was in the move to jump up when the merman’s body was suddenly pressed onto his, Hwanwoong’s back meeting the wet sand beneath and his head barely above the water level. The merman laid on top of him, the tail slowly wrapping around his legs. Hwanwoong saw the green scales shining in the bright sun light and was reminded of emeralds he had seen humans wear.

“What-?”

“I have many names, angel.” The merman purred once again, the paralyzing feeling of their bodies making Hwanwoong unable to move. Or it was the reason that the merman was a good chunk taller than he was. “Where should I start?”

“Wherever you want.”

The merman began to list the countless names he had gotten over the years of living in the deepest oceans, surrounded by nothing more than the cold sea but never long enough gone from home to miss it much, instead out and exploring the countless coastal strips before coming back and staying home for a little while. He told Hwanwoong all of them, of the little adventures he had, the experiences he collected which were connected to his names – he told them all but one.

Just when the sun had set and the nightly sky was already glistering above them, had Hwanwoong the need to ask, until then he had bathed in the sweet voice from above.

“And your given name?”

Was all he could ask. For a moment a feeling of panic overcame him when he felt how the merman had lifted himself up a little on his arms but gulped when the merman’s face was suddenly hovering above his, the stars shining so bright in the background.

“Youngjo. My name given at birth is Youngjo.” A small smile before the merman, _Youngjo_ , leaned down, their foreheads pressed together. “And you, little angle, what is your given name?”

Which name should he tell Youngjo? His archangel name? No. He wasn’t one anymore.

“Hwanwoong.”

Youngjo shot him a dazzling smile, and in that moment Hwanwoong knew, his fate had been sealed.

And for years to come, a human who never aged was seen close to the beach, stayed at the wild sea for hours until the stars shone bright, the waves throwing back the moonlight. Even in the stormiest nights or on the hottest days, the human always went down to the shore and sometimes, if one was lucky enough, they were able to see something not far from him splashing in the waves. Some would argue it was a monster of the sea, a creature so evil even the devil was afraid of it. While others thought they had seen a mermaid, seen the glistening of green just beneath the water surface, yet neither had ever been proof able. Was the human even a human? Most argued it must have been a witch or a shapeshifter because his form never changed, and age were never a bother.

Until one night, the human came but he was alone. Just his bottom getting wet by the waves hitting his body and the twinkling stars shining down on him. For an outsider it might have looked like a scenery of someone longingly looking over the water, however, actually, it was the longing directed at the ocean to his feet. At the waves he had come so accustomed to, that it felt wrong to sit at it alone without someone to share his time with. Without the laugh and smiles the human had on his lips whenever he had visited the beach.

It was as if the sea were singing a song of sorrow and longing to him, like a mother taking her child into a tight hug and telling them ‘everything would be alright’.

Because what once was there could never come back, not in the way one wanted. And for weeks the human stayed at the beach, watching the waves silently, embraced by the cold sea breeze and the hot sun above him.

Yet from one day to another, the human was gone and never seen again. Some people argued he might have died, other said he was taken by the sea while others firmly believed that the figure, they had sawn at the beach had been an illusion all along.

Hwanwoong had begun a journey again. Youngjo, the merman who had saved his life and stayed with him until his own life had faded, had been his soulmate – he found that out later. The tingle, the bond Hwanwoong had felt, it had been the bond of a soulmate. Never would he have guessed to meet someone so important to him on his lonely journey.

No. The thought of him, a fallen archangel, having a soulmate never crossed his mind. How even? Hwanwoong had been born to serve a greater purpose, the gods. However, an angel having a soulmate? It sounded ridiculous even to him.

But after Youngjo had died at a high age, Hwanwoong had felt it. Felt deep inside of his soul that the part which belonged to him was irreplaceable gone. As if a part of his heart had been ripped out of his chest and fed to some lions. It was the feeling of grief, he found out. An extraordinarily strong emotion mostly between two or more individuals who were close to each other and experienced the loss of a loved one. Even though Hwanwoong had never the chance to travel with Youngjo on his journeys, had he always been scared for the other’s life and Hwanwoong understood. This were the emotions he had drowned out because of his anger but now, at peace with himself, was he finally able to feel them fully.

The good and the bad alike. When Youngjo had come a last time, both had been aware it would be the last. Youngjo had a long-life span but it would never reach the lifespan of an angel. Only white magic or black magic, another angel or a god could kill him – not that one had ever succeeded in it. So, he was left alone when the pain started to paralyze his body. His beloved no longer.

Once again, he would roam the world – alone. It was hard from staying with the merman he fell in love with to being alone again, exposed to the wide world with nothing but himself. This time, however, he had something to hold onto. It was the feeling of love, such an intense and sought after feeling, Hwanwoong was sure he would never forget it. Beside this, he had now a mission to accomplish, something he could devote his life to. Had finally seen that there was a purpose for him, even if he was on earth now.

One, finding the poor angel and make him move on, and two, find Youngjo again. To search the lands up and down to find the two souls which were connected to his for an unknown time.

It was harder than Hwanwoong had expected, still deep down he wasn’t surprised over the fact. He had lived many, oh so many centuries on this earth already but had encountered Youngjo only once. The poor angel not even a single time. How was he even going to find them again?

That was how Hwanwoong understood what a soulmate was for the first time, had he hoped from one library to the next one, always on the search for a method on how to find someone faster.

After reading countless books he had finally understood. Youngjo was his soulmate. The poor angel and his demon had been soulmates, their connection the very reason why they had found each other in the first place. Why such a good angel was suddenly slacking off.

And in the depths of his mind Hwanwoong wondered if the gods had planned any of this – if one of them had played with the strings of their fate, letting things happen which spiralled out of control. Questioned if anything a living being could do was ever out of their own choice or if they were marionettes their whole life until they took their last breath.

He read book after book from countless libraries, bought the rarest ones from merchants and studied them quietly wherever his feet brought him. Questioned other species for their knowledge on the topics and even if it took years of earning their trusts, he patiently waited, knowing he couldn’t act irrational.

Not again.

With being on earth for so long, he lost sense of time, couldn’t tell when he had fallen and how many decades, centuries, had passed by since then. All he could see was the races evolving, tearing each other down; some in hiding while other out in the fields, dominating the weaker races.

Hwanwoong never interfered with any of those clashes, deemed it not safe enough for him and turned his back. He wondered often if it had been the right decisions, if any of his decisions had ever led to the best outcome but that was something, he would never be able to find out. His place was no longer above any of those races but also not inside, he was a loner, fated to walk his own path for an indefinable time.

With the help of the fairies he learned one of the greatest things about soulmates: the red thread. It was like a lifeline connecting those souls who where bonded by the different reasons. Not all lifelines where necessarily meant for soulmates. Cursed ones where connected with the one who had cursed them. Parents connected to their children while being connected to their own parents. All of those threads had different colours, some couldn’t be seen even with the most trained eyes. When one once learned to see those, it was suddenly like an ocean full of colours and feelings, one floating over the other but never touching. Life’s connected and disconnected so easily.

Hwanwoong saw one coming from himself. It was a white lifeline. And he wondered why it was white, for what reason the soul bond to his had been given the white one. So, he said his goodbyes in hope of finding the one life which was connected to his, the one of the two currently alive. It hurt him, knowing that just one and not both where alive but it didn’t deter his enthusiasm of finding and helping this soul. Hwanwoong wanted to atone for his sin but not any longer to get back to the gods, instead, purely for himself. He wanted to life without the burden on his shoulder while being reunited with his beloved.

So, he wandered, walked, and crawled. Dodged wars and fights. Until one day, he sat down, staring at his wrist where the line had been previously connected to.

The line was gone.

And Hwanwoong mourned the life he had never gotten the chance to meet. The soul who had been reborn only to die again. Felt helpless when he wondered how many years, he would have to live in solitude to gain another chance.

To finally be on time. Meeting the one he should have saved but was never able to.

Then, months after the last one had disappeared, one slowly winded around his arm. This one was black, so very clear to see wherever and whenever Hwanwoong looked around. And he set off, his goal to be on time, to see where it would bring him.

But it disappeared years into it existing.

And for years to come, multiple lines appeared, always varying between white, black or red. He soon noticed a pattern that the white and black lines always appeared and disappeared around the same time. A few times, one of either souls lived alone before dying but always reborn.

All in all, three colours. Red, white, and black. Even though he was never on time for both black and white, did he finally one day was on time.

Hwanwoong stumbled into a church because his red line guided him there and he was aware that whoever he would meet there, it was probably a young child. Since the meaning of time faded for him over time, he wasn’t sure on how old the soul was he would meet but, in the end, he wasn’t prepared for a child not older than two years. Yet he felt the strong tuck on his heart the moment he saw the crying baby in the arms of the mother while she listened to the priest.

It was Youngjo. No doubt.

And Hwanwoong had to gulp down the feeling of happiness and pain he felt at the same time. Happiness because he found the soul he was bound to love, yet pain because he would have to wait and see him grow up first before he could potentially tell the other.

In the crowd of people inside and outside of the church he slowly made his way up to the woman, smiling when the little boy cried in her arms and the mother was flustered because of her child. She looked at him with an apologetic smile and Hwanwoong smiled back at her when he saw the sweet little boy in her arms.

“I am so sorry; he does not stop.” She breathed out and sounded very embarrassed.

“Ah, children are like this, are they not?” He laughed before coming a step closer. “I have little brothers at home for which I care a lot and I was told I am rather good with children. Would you like me to try to calm him down?”

The woman looked at him with wary but nodded nonetheless, the potential embarrassment bigger than the fear of a stranger. Hwanwoong would have laughed at the predictable mind of humans.

Hwanwoong didn’t take his soulmate from her instead he gentle put his hand on his head and whispered a few calming words which made the child indeed stop crying. What the woman didn’t know was that he went and shared a part of his power with the baby, giving away a great portion of it. And inventible gave up a great deal of his original strength. Due to this the child would be able to use white magic and hopefully, so Hwanwoong gambled on, would live on longer than any other lifetime up to this point.

“How-?” She stared at Hwanwoong’s hand even after he retreated it.

“It comes with the time. You will learn how to calm down your child soon enough.”

With that he leaves the church and the mother behind. Though for the years to come he never went all too far, a few villages away but always in reach if needed. And Hwanwoong felt different with just half of his power flowing through his body. When you are hundred of years old having something, you are accustomed with suddenly gone was an experience he dreaded yet knew had been the right one.

He felt in half but within his heart found another empty space finally something to fill it out. He couldn’t be more glad to finally know that his journey had partly came to an end. Within the years of waiting he tried to see if any of those other two connected souls, which he now assumed where the angel and the demon, would be reborn close to them. Sadly, this wasn’t the case and at the same time he couldn’t leave the child’s side for long.

It was as if their bond pulled him back more than once especially after he had found out on how to see those threads. Seeing Youngjo grow up again was fulfilling in some kind of way while he felt disappointed in himself that he was so egoistic in his need. That he wanted to have Youngjo at his side before he would travel again, to know him close and have his opinion on those things.

Hwanwoong was selfish, and he knew. But he lived on.

It was years after he first had encountered Youngjo as a child that he actually met the man face to face again, this time in a setting he hadn’t believed he would find himself in.

Because Hwanwoong was robbed. Him, the fallen archangel, was robbed by a mere human and threatened with a knife at his throat.

For the first time in centuries he felt fear well up inside of him because if he were to die here, he might die before he could actually come in contact with his soulmate. Or so he thought because said one seemed to think otherwise. Almost like a prince in a shining armour those human girls where constantly swooning about.

Within seconds fell the man who had held him hostage asleep due to a spell which slowed down the heartrate tremendously and fell down to the ground, the knife bouncing of the stone and sliding away. Hwanwoong couldn’t help himself and looked down at the sleeping man before his brain understood what had happened, thoughts connecting and his eyes snapping up. The other male was tall, a good amount taller than Hwanwoong and so undeniably the soulmate he had lost so many years ago. And he had to gulp because his soulmate looked incredible.

“Are you alright? Did this man hurt you, sir?”

His soulmate wondered coming closer to inspect first him before crouching down and poking the sleeping culprit. Hwanwoong quirked an eyebrow when his soulmate looked up at him and smiled in an unsure way.

“I am, thank you for saving me.” He says but something must be in his voice which made the other laugh whole heartedly. “What? Why are you laughing?”

“Nothing, really it is just- “

His soulmate laughs and Hwanwoong can’t stop staring, hearing, savouring the sound he had missed for such a long time. The tingle which made his heart speed up and miss beats he never knew he had. And all the while he saw how their soulmate bond vibrated with his bright laugh.

“What is it?” He breathed out. Hwanwoong hadn’t felt like this in so long, he wondered if fate was for once on his side.

“Ah well, I was not even taking this path on purpose but on sheer intuition. My usual route is a different, yet I was able to save you from danger.” His soulmate stands up and suddenly they are so close that Hwanwoong has to look up to look him in the eye. “Fate must be good to me when it makes me save such a beautiful man.”

Hwanwoong blushed and his soulmate only laughed more even when Hwanwoong saw the glimpse of embarrassment in his eyes and the posture of someone who was uncertain. But deep down he enjoyed this little flirting his soulmate attempted, especially since he apparently felt their bond too without knowing exactly what it was. It meant so much for him.

“You know, instead of flirting with me you can tell me your name and afterwards I treat you to something as a thank you for helping me.”

His soulmate was visibly taken back by his blunt words and now it was Hwanwoong’s turn to smirk, knowing that his words had hit its mark. The faint blush adoring the other’s cheeks made Hwanwoong giddy and warm, looked so beautiful on his skin. A gulp and eyes casted to the side. It took the other a couple of seconds before he could answer.

“You do not have to thank me- “

“Can you not see that I invite you with an ulterior motive?”

His soulmate looked back up at him and the blush had intensified.

“I can, I just did not expect for you to be so… direct with it. I- my name is Youngjo, Kim Youngjo. What is yours?”

And for the first time in years he found that his name became even more meaning.

“Hwanwoong.”

It took Hwanwoong a long time before he saw and was able to meet the next thread. It was the white one he followed and this time it was due to Youngjo that he was able to meet the new life from the very first moment it took its breath.

Youngjo had come and helped at the labour of a baby as the great white sorcerer he had become after they had gotten to know that the woman was having a difficult pregnancy.

That the baby would be one of the souls he was searching for, he had never expected but he couldn’t help himself but think that this had to be fate. When he was the one who got to hold the child after the mother gave birth and the one who cleaned it up with a warm towel. He was the first one who held the crying baby and it took him only a few seconds to grant the baby his blessing.

Carefully he gave the baby back to its mother, feeling how his heart swelled at the lit-up face when she was finally able to hold her child and it got even brighter after the child stopped crying.

Youngjo put a strengthening potion into the hands of the father and telling him in which instances he should use it before he sat down on the edge of the bed, watching the mother and her child with adoration.

“Do you already know how your beautiful son will be called?”

Hwanwoong felt almost drawn to the mother when she looked at her son with such a warmth that it took his breath away.

“Yes, his name will be Yeosang.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was it? Not exactly the closure you expected, right?  
> I wanted to leave a big part up to your imagination and how you picture their relationship, and I hope you can imagine them having a good time. 
> 
> See you soon for the very last chapter :)


	11. Forever mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the very last chapter of cylma, extra chapter 2. :)
> 
> I say my thanks at the end notes! No long word before.
> 
> The only Tag I want to warn beforehand: none explicit sex and implied minor/major character death (tho it's like minimal!!)

A deep howl echoed back through the forest, branches creaking due to the strong wind, animals fleeing inside to their little homes. Dark clouds had formed over the forest and where gradually coming closer, the faraway rumble of thunder disrupting the former peacefulness. It looked like the world was suddenly tainted in black ink, the once blue sky all dark and heavy, swallowing every possible light source. 

It looked like the end of the world. 

The air was vibrating, so full of life while facing mother nature’s unpredictable forces - and all he could do was watch. 

There was nothing he could do to prepare the living from the upcoming storm, looking so alarmingly dark, he thought he could feel the tumult inside of his chest, aching so deep within that it made his mind swirl and turn. 

So he stared ahead with eyes so distant, he was losing himself inside of those dark clouds. 

Though, all of these heavy feelings seemed to vanish the moment two arms wrapped around his chest and pulling him against an all to familiar chest, and within seconds he let himself fall into what he knew best. The warmth he knew all too well, the only place on this planet where he found peace with everything and himself. 

A breath ghosted near his ear and he couldn’t suppress the shudder running through his body - not sure if it was due to the temperature change or the arrival of his soulmate. 

“What are you watching?” 

“The clouds. A storm is looming over the forest.”

“I see. Why do you not step away from the window and do something with me, beautiful?” 

San sighs, his own hands gripping the window frame just a little harder while his eye seemed to be glued to the darkness forming oh so close. It almost felt like an reminder, of those times where everything had turned dark for them, where they had nothing but each other within this all swallowing darkness. 

“Yeosang?” 

The elder hums, his chin hooked over San’s fairly tensed shoulders. Just the touch of Yeosang spread warmth in his body, yet he couldn’t relax. 

“Do you remember?” 

“Remember? What exactly do you desire me to remember?”

San wasn’t so sure himself. They had talked about this already so many times it should have become boring at this point but San couldn’t help it, the memories so strongly burned in his mind, how could he possibly forget? Had he not laid nights awake while his mind made him relive all those different times of his existences, almost like a never ending theater play he was forced to watch without any way of leaving because he was the watcher and the main actor at the same time. 

Yet Yeosang was patient with him, let San ask again and again, never sounding annoyed when he brought it back up. The elder held him tightly whenever San bursted into tears, the memories being to much to bear while on other occasion he gave San the freedom he needed, the guilt at his past actions directed at Yeosang gnawing at the back of his mind. 

Yeosang, on the other hand, had cried a handful of times but with time his tears turned into dust, and where once the fear and dying had been so prominent, was Yeosang now facing the future with hope. With a certain indifference as long as he could hold onto San. He had wondered countless nights if the past things weren't eating him up but the elder always shook his head when he felt like San would bring it up. So, he didn't ask.

Deep down he had wondered countless times how neither of them had broken into pieces at this point, both of their minds so messed up due to the curse they had to endure for such a long time that sometimes just looking at the other was painful. 

Both enduring the pain in such different ways.

But in the end, San could never leave Yeosang, even if his strongest desire would have been just that. He couldn’t.

They had went through so much together, had endured and failed so many times, no other soul would ever do it like them. And Yeosang was still at his side, giving him the reassurance he needed to keep going. With Yeosang at his side would San be able to conquer the world, he was sure of it. There was nothing stronger than their bond in their world. No one could ever break them apart. 

And he relished in the knowledge that this man was all his, the power he held over San so great yet he wasn’t afraid, found himself only falling with each day more. At the same time had San so much power over Yeosang it made him tremble sometimes.

It might have been everything he had known since that first life so he had no comparison but did he really need one when he was finally happy? When he had finally obtained the one thing he had wanted every single lifetime and fate wasn’t on their trail anymore. 

“The day we met?” 

San rasps out, feeling how the darks clouds which had formed inside of his heart where brushed away with the gentleness Yeosang held onto him. Yeosang was the light while he had always been the darkness, and together they balanced everything out, like right now. 

“Which one of the many times we met?” 

The older sounded amused and San felt his eye twitch in annoyance, knowing very well that his lover was playing with him. In a good way, there was no bad way between them. 

“The very first, Sangie. Say, do you remember?” 

“Clearly, so very clearly. You looked so different back then.”

“I was taller.” 

“You were. Do not forget the horns, wings and this little cute tail you had.”

“Nothing of this was cute Yeosang-”

“You have always been cute in my eyes, no matter what form.”

“You hated me at least in one life, maybe even more-”

“The circumstances had been different, beautiful. You are San, a cute man I met once in a wonderful garden. The you I met back hundreds of years ago was you, but different. Both Seonghwa and San are parts of your personality.” 

“I did not ask you to analyze me, dearest.” San huffs a little annoyed, knowing he had heard those words so many times before he was sure he could recite them in his sleep. 

“I did not, I only stated facts.” The elder hums against his hair. “So, where does this question arise from? What brought it up?” 

“The darkness.” 

San knew it wasn’t exactly the best description of what had triggered him to think about those times again when he had learned to ignore those memories most days. But those looming dark clouds had punched San straight into his gut and heart, awaking feelings he had tried to bury. Feelings he had hoped would disappear with time.

But time isn't a concept for them. 

“The darkness?” Yeosang hums and San feels how he is pulled back by the elder, his fingers slowly falling down from the window frame and to his sides, dangling. “There will always be darkness, San, and so will light. It is meant for those two elements to keep the balance of life, and neither is good nor bad. They just exist to give purpose. If the darkness hurts you, light can tend your wounds. If light hurts you, there will always be comfort within the darkness wrapping around you like a blanket. You will never be alone.”

And San knew that, weren’t the two of them the perfect example of Yeosang’s words. He had always been the darkness, Yeosang the light, and together they had found a path to walk at the same time without any destruction. Light and darkness in balance. 

San’s hand came up and felt Yeosang’s soft hair against his palm, heard the other sigh in contentment. This was what he had hoped for- wanted for so long. 

“Stop thinking about what happened in the past, my beautiful. Rather see the future with all of its colors.” The blond’s head nuzzling his shoulder, a warm breath ghosting over his skin. “Live with me in the current time, please.”

How could he say no to that? But it was so hard when he had to watch the dark clouds slowly swallowing their little house, when he could’t stop his mind from wandering-

“San.” 

A low raspy voice breathed against his ear and he shuddered, closing his eyes at the feeling he got from it. It was a familiar feeling of knowing when San felt Yeosang pressing even closer to him, strong arms holding him so closely. San knew what Yeosang would try and succeed in doing in a few minutes, felt his stomach twist in anticipation when their feet slowly stepped backwards. 

“Yeosang?” He asked as a matter of fact even if the question was unnecessary. They had done this so many times since the day of their attained freedom, San knew the other’s ways by heart now. Knew that this way of making him forget always functioned and he was glad Yeosang was always so patient with giving him exactly what he needed- in this situation something that would make him forget. 

“You okay with this?” The elder asks when he finally sits down on the bed, letting his arms slipped off of San and giving him the possibility to turn away, to go if he wanted to. Yeosang always gave him the freedom of choosing and he was so glad the elder was so considerate, so caring. 

San turns around facing the blond, letting his hands caress Yeosang’s soft cheeks while gazing into his charming brown eyes. The eyes who were always meant for him and only him. 

“Yeah, make me forget?” 

A soft smile graces the elder’s lips. 

“Of course, beautiful.” 

They leaned in, lips touching with no rush, just slowly moving against each other. San savoured the gentle smile on Yeosang’s lips when he slowly cradled his lap, even when the thunder finally struck outside of the window and a cold wind found its way into their room. 

Within Yeosang’s space he was safe. With those strong hands holding him so dearly, he knew he was loved. With the warm spark inside of Yeosang’s eyes when he laid San down, he knew he was desired. This man, his soulmate, was everything he ever needed and with him he could forget all the bad things prior. 

Because their love was infinite.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

It was a cold afternoon when Seonghwa had seen the angel for the first time. He was just walking around, hiding his demon appearance from the creatures when he all but freezed in his tracks, a poor hybrid running straight into his back when he suddenly stopped. Not that Seonghwa could have noticed it really all that much, his eyes glued to the person his eyes had captured. He heard how the hybrid growled something behind him so he let a short 'I am sorry' slip but never turning his head.

He couldn’t turn it, even if he had tried. 

The angel was, admittedly, not the cleanest angel he had ever seen in this moment. Mudd was all over his body, sticking inside of his hair and squelching under his feet, yet Seonghwa couldn’t look away. Was totally entranced the moment he had seen the man squatting down next to a child which had been the one at fault why he had been full of mudd. But the angel was laughing and playfully fighting back, smearing the mudd on the child's cheeks and hair. 

It was an adorable sight. It made his heart squeeze in a delicate way. 

Then their eyes met and Seonghwa had known that he had lost a battle which had never truly started. The angel's eyes where, for him, such an intense blue color, it reminded him of a cloud free sky when the sun almost began to set. His blond long hair fell so pleasingly easy around his face, framing it in a way it made his heart stutter just lightly. And then the angel smiled at him even though Seonghwa was sure the angel knew who he really was. Had this delicate but precious smile on his lips. Seonghwa knew it was over for him.

The child had laughed in delight when it used the angel's deconcentrated moment to put another handful of mudd on his hair. While the angel almost shrieked in surprise did both him and the child laugh, much to the angel's dismay. Seonghwa watched in delight how the angel's cheeks turned a soft rosé and a shy smile on his face before he looked up when a voice called. 

"Jeongin? Come, mama has to go." 

The child turned to the voice with a happy, bubbly laugh and ran straight at the woman, arms circling around her legs. The mother looked at the angel with a thankful smile before she took the child's hands and walked away. A little hand waved a goodbye and the angel waved back, an expression so soft, Seonghwa’s heart clenched even more at the sight.   
Was this angel even real or was he hallucinating?

Only when the child and the mother were out of sight did a sigh leave the angel's mouth, looking down at himself with a little regret displayed on his face. His prior white clothes now stained in dark colors, such a strong contrast to the overall aura of the angel.

"Not fond of mudd?" Seonghwa asks with a chuckle, still standing frozen in spot.

"No, that is not it. I love little Jeongin a lot but his way of playing always includes getting dirty. I sometimes wish for him to stop but at the same time he is a child, how could he know better?"

The angel smiles softly before looking directly at him. 

"And why are you standing there, stranger?" 

His voice doesn't sound threatening but Seonghwa understands the little warning laying underneath. 

"Wandering around, enjoying the buzzing of life. Captured by the beauty I saw." 

Seonghwa answers the curious angel and gestures behind him, the streets filled so many vibrantly, different languages lapping over one another and traditions clashing. It was a fest for Seonghwa. As a demon he had always a reputation, if he liked it or not was not up for debate. 

People saw his kind as mean, dangerous, malicious, ill mannered and even blood lusting. They were nothing like this. It was the perception forced onto them which had, over time, turned a lot of the rumors into reality. Not a single soul was born evil. Evilness came with time, with the time one was raised and what they experienced over the time of their life - Seonghwa had grown up like anything but that. 

His parents were kind demons, the ones who were outcasts in the demon society nowadays due to their friendly nature, due to the will to live their lives to the fullest. And Seonghwa was the same. He loved to see the buzzing of life, to see people laugh and cry, fall in love and shaken up from shock. All of these emotions were part of living and Seonghwa loved living. 

Standing a little apart from an angel was nothing knew, he was aware that they looked after the weaker races to ensure the stability of the world, but seeing this one was different. This one pulled at his heartstrings, playing a tune with the beat of his heart he never knew he possessed, yet the few minutes of knowing the angel was enough to send his mind spiraling. 

"Just wandering around? Sounds suspicious." 

The angel said though a laugh accompanied his words and Seonghwa all but melted at the sound, finally taking a step forward. He sees how the angel's eyes snap towards him, fixating and taking in all of his moves for the case Seonghwa would try to hurt him - which he most definitely didn't wanted to. 

Instead he lifted his hand and carefully to not frighten the angel, brushed away some mudd which had started to dry on the angel's cheek. With great satisfaction did he see how the cheeks fully flushed under his touch and eyes casted away in embarrassment, though not shying away but coming back and staying. Though they stayed on Seonghwa’s body than his face. 

"Even if mudd would cover all of your body, you are still such a beautiful angel. I wonder, is there anyone who could ever hold up to your beauty?"

Seonghwa said those in the heat of the moment, not really rethinking what words he had used until the angel's eyes flickered back up at him and Seonghwa realized- it sounded like he was courting him. Gulping hard, he tried to pry his hand away but another was laid on top of his, warmth against warmth and Seonghwa felt that he couldn’t care less how his words had sounded because courting the angel didn't seem like a bad idea after all. 

The touch made Seonghwa tingle all over. It felt so right to touch the angel, to feel his cheek against the palm of his hand and on top of his own. 

"I never- I never thought I would see the day where a demon would say such words to me."

The other quietly admits and Seonghwa brushes his thumb over the heated cheek once more. What was he getting into? Was this right? Those thoughts swirled through his head but he couldn’t lie to himself, hadn’t he been mesmerized by the angel from moment one. 

"Call me weird, little angel, but from the moment I saw you, I was unable to look away. Say, what spell have you casted upon me?"

"None."

Seonghwa humed in amusement, seeing how the angel couldn’t be that old if he fell for such a cheesy line. Or he was a helpless romantic, both would be fine for Seonghwa. Yet, when he looked back at the angel, he saw a spark of confidence he didn't knew the blond would possess.

The angel stepped closer and Seonghwa could almost feel the thread connection the two, vibrating so strongly, it cut of his air. There was something between the two but he wasn’t sure what it was, only that he wanted to chase it, feel it, dive into it until the angel would be sick of him. 

There was a tension Seonghwa couldn’t grasp but felt the need to explore rising with every centimetre the angel came closer to him, until they were so close that Seonghwa could have counted his eyelashes, the angel leaning his head sideways. 

How could be a normally so innocent move have such a strong effect on him? Seonghwa was doomed.

"I would not mind if you were to cast a spell on me." The angel's voice was smooth, completely free from the former embarrassment.

"Is that so?" He answered, taking the last step for the both of them, now basically chest to chest. "I would like to get to know you better."

"How come?" The angel whispered and Seonghwa saw his eyes flicker to his lips shortly before coming up immediately. 

"How could I possibly pass you on? Not when I feel a connection between us, angel."

The angel only hums while taking a step back and it takes everything in him to not close the distance again. Chokes on air immediately after, a finger slowly wandering down on his chest, Seonghwa’s eyes following it until he stops and his eyes snap back to the angel. The angel smirks a little before retreating his hand, a soft red hue on his cheeks. 

"I wonder what connection." The angel says and turns around, his with mudd sticky hair still looking fluffy. "Maybe you have to follow me to find out what exactly…" He pauses, regarding Seonghwa over his shoulder before walking further away, "... this connection is."

And Seonghwa doesn't need to be asked twice, immediately following the angel. Neither of them had understood what connection they truly had but they wanted to explore it- and Seonghwa was down for that. 

An angel at his side almost sounded like a miracle.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Yeosang stills in his movement, the tap twice to his shoulder indicating him to wait, even if it is only for a moment. He looks down at the man underneath him, his flushed cheeks and from sweat sticky hair and Yeosang still thought he was the most gorgeous man. 

"San?" He asked softly even though his breath is a little erratic and pearls of sweat travel down his cheek, Yeosang stays calm for his beloved.

San, however, doesn't answer him instead he lets his head roll to the side, eyes fixating on something Yeosang couldn’t see before he looked back at him and Yeosang offered a small smile. His beloved smiled back. Two arms circled around his neck and bringing his face down but San dodges Yeosang try to kiss him, chuckling lightly. Instead, two hands ran through his hair, pulling on his blond strands carefully and Yeosang sighs in delight. 

"I love you." 

His beloved whispered into the heated night, lips barely moving but his eyes telling so many stories, Yeosang didn't need to hear him to understand. San’s eyes where halfway closed and even if they stopped, he saw the underlying lust within them, so he wondered why San had needed to stop. 

"I love you too, my dearest. How come you are telling me this right now?" Yeosang breathes close to the other’s lips but still not able to kiss those addicting lips. "Am I this good that you fell in love all over again?"

He jokes, smirking down at his lover but gets punished immediately, San moving his hips back making Yeosang moan deeply. 

"Playing dirty, sweetheart?" 

"Just by the rules you set." 

Yeosang narrows his eyes. He really liked to continue what they had started but San hadn't given the indication to start again. 

"Thank you for giving us a chance." 

San’s whispers, pressing a kiss on Yeosang’s lips with utmost care and he finds himself smiling into it, loving the softness of the gesture. 

"For all eternity you will be the only one I give a chance to."

"You better be mine for every time we met."

"For as long as you want me."

"There will never be a time where I do not long for you, Yeosang." 

"Good."

Yeosang chuckles and deep within the storm which was raging outside was he embracing the only person he needed in his life, the only person he had left. 

San was his anchor, grounding him whenever he threatened to float away. The younger was the one who made him sane, saved him from the pits of the swallowing darkness within him. Yeosang could rely on him without a second thought- and he wished he could give back the same, to make San feel safe whenever he was with Yeosang.

Yeosang’s solely purpose at this point was to make San happy and he knew he was a factor to this happiness, that without him San would never truly feel happy again. 

Soulmates for live. A bond strong enough to withstand even the toughest times. They shared one and no one would ever be able to break them apart- two souls meant to be from the very first time. 

And when he now fell into this warm body, he could forget for a moment what happened in the past and focus on the moment. With San smiling into their kiss Yeosang knew everything would be alright, even if he were to close his eyes right now. 

So he chuckled, absolutely overwhelmed by his own feelings, caressing the naked skin underneath his fingertips. 

"Let us go on a date tomorrow." Yeosang suggests, still kissing the other.

"I would like that."

With San, he would always be happy. 

He found his eternal happiness and home.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"Are you serious?"

"Oh my, yes I am." 

"Do you have a death wish?!"

Yeosang shurgs, lazily combing his hair while looking into the mirror in front of him. He sees how his friend is running up and down behind him, throwing a glance at Yeosang every now and then before he finally halts behind him. Two hands placed on his shoulder making Yeosang still. 

"A demon. Tell me, why does it have to be a demon?" 

Wooyoung's voice is whiny, high, and Yeosang knows that his friend is just worried for him, yet he can’t stop his eye roll when Wooyoung began to pout. 

"Why does it matter if he is a demon or not? I like him." 

"Like him? Do you even hear yourself?"

Wooyoung squeezes his shoulders hard making Yeosang wince in pain and Wooyoung immediately retreats, taking a step back but the pout stays. 

"I am just worried for you, can you not see it? The problems?" 

"I see them, of course I do." Yeosang answer, holding the comb back for Wooyoung to take it. A moment passes before the comb slides out of his hand and two warm hands began to comb his hair. 

"Then why?" Soft words, barely above whisper.

"He is different, so very different." 

And he was. Just thinking back made Yeosang shiver. Seonghwa was one of the first demons he had ever encountered yet, from the moment their eyes met, he knew that there was something he could explain. 

Those dark eyes seemed to lure him in, the dark hair parted just right to give a view to his forehead. Two little horns peaking out while a tail was slowly moving back and forth. His aura. The demon's aura was so soft and it had Yeosang spirling, chasing a feeling he never knew he possessed. 

It was a strong beating heart combined with a flush of his skin and it had Yeosang breathless. 

Especially when he first spoke with the other for so long, Seonghwa’s voice flowing into his body like nothing else, playing with his mind so easily. When the demon's hand touched his, when fingers carefully dipped into his waist and pulled him just a bit closer. 

A day they had laid down, watching the stars together and talking about anything and everything.

Being with Seonghwa was easy, far more easy than he had ever thought could be possible with anyone, had Wooyoung not been the only real close soul to him. 

But his fingers intertwined with Seonghwa made his heart soar, his wings vibrating with every touch he received and gave back.

He could so vividly remember the first time they had kissed, soft lips on his and it was a memory Yeosang wanted to treasure, to keep close to his heart. Because Seonghwa was a soul who knew him without ever asking a question, their bond so easily made that it scared Yeosang the first few days. 

Just now, talking about his… beloved made Yeosang smile uncontrollably. 

"He is- everything I ever wanted."

Because that he is. 

For all the years he had been alive, which wasn’t much in relation to Wooyoung and especially not to Seonghwa, had he always wished for a companion. Yeosang knows that Wooyoung is his companion, but it wasn't the companionship he had wished for. 

Yeosang had seen humans, watched and protect them, stayed within their circles and learned so much. And he learned that humans loved in so many different ways. That each time of their affection meant something unique, one of a kind.

Foremost, loving the one who stayed with you until death stands on your doorstep. A partner, lover, beloved. Humans had a concept of spending loving hours with their significant other. Yeosang wanted that, had wanted it every since he understood those emotions.

Seeing how loved ones fell into each other's arms after being apart for some time. Those shared innocent peaks and heated kisses. The little dates two lovers went on to strengthen the love and how they shared a bed when they felt comfort.

Yeosang wanted this.

He knew that not all of these relationships were actually built on love, he saw his fair share of mistreatment within those relationships but he never lost hope that he could achieve something similar, actually filled with love and adoration. 

Then Seonghwa came along and showed him that it was indeed possible. That those feelings they shared seemed to be real. Yeosang wanted them to be real, so he believed in their relationship. Apparently more than his best friend. 

"What could you want more than what you already have?" 

"Love, Wooyoung, I want to be loved."

"But I love you! Is my love not enough?" 

Yeosang sighs when Wooyoung pulls at a knot in his hair, closing his eyes to escape his friends searching gaze.

"You love me as friend, a brother maybe but that is not the love I am searching for, Wooyoung."

"What is the love you desire?" Wooyoung sounds suddenly very tired and Yeosang can imagine why, though he actively decided to ignore it. His friend knew better, had gotten his answer years ago. 

"I want to go on dates, hold hands and giggle over silly things. I want to be held, to have told that I am their only one. I want to be loved like a lover, not like a friend." 

"I could-"

"You could not." 

"If you gave me a chance-"

"I would use you, Woo, and you know that. Neither of us would be happy."

"And he can make you happy?" 

"Yes, he can."

Hands still in his hair, Yeosang opens his eyes. He sees the other’s head hang low, lilac hair falling in front of his eyes. Yeosang knows this is unfair, he knows Wooyoung deserves better and he truly hopes one day, Wooyoung can move on. 

"You make me happy as well, Wooyoung, just not in the same context. You give me a kind of happiness I can only get from you. He gives me a kind of happiness I can only obtain through him." Yeosang tries to seek for Wooyoung’s eyes but the other angel never looks up. "I am unfair and I am sorry for that. If this hurts you, do not feel the need to stay at my side and hurt any further. Do not bare pain when you could ease it. Your place will always be free in my heart, if you decide to stay or not." 

For the longest time they say nothing, only their breathes echoing back in the room they were currently in. Occasionally he saw Wooyoung’s wings flutter lightly and he hoped, as egoistic as it was, that Wooyoung would stay. Even if he could never love Wooyoung the same way the other angel loved him, he could at least give him some peace of mind. 

Then Yeosang lets out a surprised yelp when two arms close around his neck and a face is pressed into his hair. Wet. Wooyoung’s cheeks are wet. It breaks Yeosang’s heart to break Wooyoung’s, however, he rather says the truth than lie to the only angel he had ever genuinely cared for. And Wooyoung doesn't let go, cries into his hair while sobs leave his mouth. Yeosang pats his arms in a soothing manner.

"Please, never say again that I should leave. I will never leave your side, no matter what happens. My place is at your side. Please let me stay."

Wooyoung’s voice is broken and it breaks Yeosang even more. He wonders why it had come to this, that his feelings betrayed them; that Seonghwa happened. 

That he was happy with a demon at his side.

"I would never send you away Wooyoung."

"Do you mean that?" 

"Yes." Yeosang leans back into the touch. "I mean it."

So, they stay like this for a while, just enjoying each other’s company. At some point had Wooyoung stopped to cry and met his gaze in the mirror. His eyes were puffy and red, dried tear stains on his cheeks but Wooyoung’s eyes were warm and determined, as if he had made up his mind for something. 

“I better meet this Seonghwa soon, so I can judge if he really is good for you.” 

The older angel huffs and Yeosang chuckles, a shy smile coming up on his lips when he envisioned how that meet-up could potentially play out. 

“Do not scare him away, I really like him.”

“Huh, I would never!” 

“Just making sure.” 

They fall into their normal banter again and even if it hurts both of them, Yeosang knows they can overcome even the highest hindrance, their friendship running deeper than anything. 

The wind blew low and cold the next time he met up with Seonghwa. Spring was in action all around them, waking up the nature from its deep slumber and letting it bloom allover, repainting the world in the most vibrant colors. 

Here he was, slowly walking through the beauty which surrounded him, following a path the demon had laid out for him, his magic guiding Yeosang perfectly. He could follow the trail blindly and could be assured nothing would happen to him, Seonghwa was just this foresightedly. 

It was amazing. Yeosang felt how the nature gave him a kind of strength he never knew he possessed, even though he had seen so many springs come and go over the time of his lifetime. 

Maybe it was different now, knowing that he possessed feelings for his significant other, that he had finally found the person he had been looking for all along. Suddenly the colors were more vibrant, the birds chirped louder, the arrival of new live more exciting than ever. 

Seonghwa came into his view when he finally stepped out of the forest and a wide lake appeared in front of him, the water surface glimmering in the midday sun. 

The demon stood motionless at the lakeside, eyes casted over the water, zoning in on something out of Yeosang’s understanding. The way his beloved stood there made Yeosang’s heart squeeze. Seonghwa was too gorgeous for his own good. His black hair was shimmering due to the sun, his tan skin looking sun kissed, the outfit he had chosen just revealing enough to tease and leave someone wanting for more. 

It was truly unfair what effect this demon had on him. 

He sneaked up on him, two arms circling around his stomach when he pressed his chest against Seonghwa’s back, feeling how the elder visible froze for a second before relaxing immediately after. Yeosang rubbed his head on the space between Seonghwa’s wings while squeezing the other just a tad bit tighter as if afraid the elder might slip out of his grasp. 

Just staying like this was already enough for Yeosang to feel lighter, happier. It was a mere touch but it was so much more at the same time. He wished he could stay like this for all eternity. 

“Hey.” Yeosang whispered into the demon’s back, feeling how Seonghwa’s wings twitched at his voice and a breath ghosting over them. Ah, his wings are so sensitive. 

“My angel.” Seonghwa whispers back, his own hands finding Yeosang’s to intertwine their hands. 

The demon pulls his hands up and presses a kiss on both, letting his lips linger for a moment before he let go of Yeosang’s hands and turned around in their half-embrace. Soft brown eyes looked at his but Yeosang’s breath hitched. 

Something was wrong, so utterly wrong.

In those eyes he had come to love so much laid pain, worry- fear. And Yeosang couldn’t understand why, saw no wounds and no distress on the elder. Yeosang cupped on of Seonghwa’s cheeks when the elder looked at him with such clear pain in his eyes, it made his heart stop for a second. 

“Hwa?” Yeosang’s voice broke, making Seonghwa visibly flinch. 

“I have a bad feeling, my dearest.” 

Yeosang had to gulp, feeling how his fingers began to lightly tremble. Seonghwa was having a bad feeling? He didn’t like the sound of that at all. 

“A bad feeling?” Yeosang whispered into the space between them, feeling how the elder tensed at his words. “About what? Tell me, what happened to have your nerves so fragile?” 

For moment the elder just stares at him, in his eye a knowledge he seemed to hate. Yeosang caressed his cheek, hoping the demon would tell him what was wrong. 

Seonghwa closed his eyes, leaning completely into Yeosang’s touch before he said:

“I think one of my fellow demons found out that I am seeing you, an angel, and tried to steer problems within my community. As I told you, they are against such … relationships, even when we do no harm.”   
“They are against … us.” 

Yeosang closed his eyes as well, just listening to the nature around him and his fast pulsating heart, silently wondering why this had to happen. Why people couldn’t accept that love knew no boundaries. 

“I am afraid they are, my dearest.” 

No laid Seonghwa’s hand on his cheek, following his jawline before his hand slipped into his hair, patting his head so carefully Yeosang felt tears well up at the gesture. Because against all odds, against all of this unnecessary hate - Seonghwa was still the same gentle man he had always been. 

“What does that mean for us?” 

“Sadly, I am not sure but promise me something?”

“Of course.”

“Whatever happens, never forget that I truly love you, Yeosang.” 

“I will never forget.”

Oh, what had they done?

How could have they been so blind? 

All the signs had been there, but neither of them had seen them. 

To blinded what they had been, what they had obtained, they grew blind to what had been most important. 

Their original fear had sharpened their senses for quite a time but after they had forgotten those bad feelings, it had been too late to act upon the knowledge they once held. 

Yeosang had left his duty. Thousands of humans died, only because he couldn’t protect them in time even though it had been his job to watch over those souls, to guide them until their time had come to go. 

He had failed them. All of them. 

Only made it to the slashed village when other angels had already made damage control. 

Their eyes piercing him and he fell to his knees, the little Jeongin lying in front of him, no life in his little body anymore. Because Yeosang had failed him. 

He had accepted his punishment, knew he deserved it, for what he had done he wanted himself to suffer. 

Seonghwa was punished by his gods as well. A shared glance and Yeosang knew the demon was taking the punishment the same way he would - because they both deserved it. Knew that they had both failed, Yeosang in saving and Seonghwa at hindering his own kind. 

Yeosang didn’t fear the punishment, especially since Seonghwa was right there next to him, head hung low. 

They never shared a single word with each other again, never let their eyes cross paths again. Innocent lives gone, the weight on their shoulders immense. 

Wooyoung cried in front of him, begged him to say something - but what could he have said? There was nothing worth to be said. He wondered deeply how Wooyoung would hold up without him, not that he could change the fact of leaving Wooyoung behind anymore. 

And when he saw their executioner, all he could do was smile in a pained way. 

He knew the cycle of being reborn would begin as soon as he died, Seonghwa following the same destiny. Yeosang was ready for it. 

White light illuminated everything around him before everything went black. 

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Why here?” San asks interested, letting his eye take in the environment they momentarily stood in. 

“I thought you might like it. I know it is not as beautiful as your own but I thought a change of scene would be good for you.” 

San smiled at him before letting his hand slip out of Yeosang’s, walking - almost running - down the path up to the sea of flowers. 

Yeosang had held his promise from the night before and taken San out on a date, their destination the garden of the towns major who, surprisingly, had befriended Yeosang one day and invited them. He had taken the elder man up on his offer and while their host was currently attending important affairs, did he gave his guests the freedom to roam his massive garden. Which, in all honesty, had been Yeosang’s goal from the very beginning. 

Seeing his beloved eye all of those beautiful flowers with utmost interest made his heart swell, Yeosang would never get enough of seeing San happy with what had been the part of his childhood- what had defined him. 

Especially when the younger began to gentle talk with the flowers knowing all too well that they wouldn’t answer him, yet he said he could understand their language better than their own language some times. It was refreshing and sweet to see San so passionate about flowers. 

He saw how San waved him over and with an amused smile did he walk over, standing a few centimetres away looking down at the display of calla lilies right in front of San, currently in full bloom. 

“Do you think we can get some calla lilies for our garden?” 

San sounds enthusiastic, carefully brushing the flowers petals. 

“It is your garden, beautiful, whatever you decide on doing with it will succeed.” 

“Not only my garden but yours as well, you live with me there.” 

The younger pouts while looking at him and Yeosang laughs in delight. 

“Okay, my garden too. If you think you can find a good place for them, then I do not see a problem in getting a few.” 

“I have the perfect place already in mind.” 

Yeosang feels so many emotions while looking at San that he deems the moment right. Slowly he kneeled next to the younger who looked at him with a questioning gaze but soon his face morphed into a shocked one when Yeosang held up a little box. Carefully he opens the little box, smiling warmly at his beloved.

“I know that in none of our lives we ever got to the part what other species normally do. Now that we can finally be with each other, do you not deem it right for me to finally ask.” 

Yeosang holds the little box a little farther to San who’s eyes dart down at the box and up to him a couple of times. 

“Until the day death shall divide us again, will you be stay at my side as the love of my life? The soulmate you are?” 

In San’s eyes pool tears, lip bitten to hold back sobs.   
“Marry me?” 

San full on ends crying, ignoring the box and falling into his arms, pressing his head deep into the crook of his neck. Tears wet his skin and Yeosang lays his unoccupied hand on his beloved back, gentle caressing it. 

“Forever yours.” 

Maybe they fell to the ground, maybe they cried together, maybe they shared an innocent kiss under the sun. For once, nothing mattered. For once, everything mattered. 

Because they were bound together forever.

Their tale would forever live on in those who heard about their story firsthand, who made a tale out of it to tell their children. A tale to remind those who love to always be on guarded, and those who had ill intentions to rethink their doings. 

In the end, no one wanted to share the fate of those two lovers who had been bound together for an eternity. 

Their destiny becoming a moral for those generations after them. 

And no one knew, after decades, if those souls had ever found each other again, even after their initial curse had been broken. 

If they did, it was not the time to tell this tale here. It was a tale for another time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... it's the end.   
> I'm kinda sad that the journey of this long project ends here. I greatly enjoyed writing CYLMA especially since it was the first longer fic I ever wrote and I actually powered through it. I'm proud of myself to have archived this. 
> 
> I also want to say my thanks for every single reader I had over the course of over half a year here, who read it, gave kudos, bookmarked, subscribed and commented. You all are the reason why I pulled through, so my thanks go to every singel one of you. I can't imagine how this would have ended if I hadn't had this support. Atinys, you guys are great. TT Please never hesitate to dm me on twitter, send me a cc or write a comment, I'm always happy to interact with people! I would love to her your over all feedback to the story. Was it how you expected it? Did it surprise you? 
> 
> That being said, my new long chaptered fic is in the work and it is a cross over fic. I think around october I might be able to publish the first chapter, so if you are interested in reading more from me, something is coming. :)
> 
> So for now, I say my goodbye. You shall find me at my other two currently running fics or with the one-shots I post occassionally. 
> 
> That being said. I love you guys. Thank you for this amazing journey. 
> 
> With love, Sol.

**Author's Note:**

> Made it through? Yay! :D 
> 
> I warn you now, I'm usually pretty mean to my biases and guess who my bias is… <3  
> I cannot tell you when I will update this since it will contain longer chapters, around 5k to 10k words most likely and I work fulltime, means I try to write whenever I can. 
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/SolreyItIs) and my [ CC](https://curiouscat.me/@SolreyItIs)
> 
> I would appreciate comments or kudos to know how you liked it and don't feel shy to ask me if anything is unclear :D (Which I could totally understand since the story only begins from here on, it's going to be a wild ride)


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